Paradigm Shift
by Thousand Sunny Lyon
Summary: Hawkeye finds herself enmeshed in an unfolding drama between the homunculi during the darkest chapter of her life. Undergoing beta review- story will be updated all at once, including the newest chapter.
1. Prologue

**AN: This fic is animeverse AU, deviating from the main arc around episode 37; however, the manga element of Roy killing Lust is present. Based off an RP with HayakuGaki's original concept inspiration of Lust!Roy, used with permission. Rizacentric. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, RoyAi would be a lot more obvious. At least at the end.**

**Prologue**

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed, resembling even more her raptor namesake. "If you're not going to pretend then nor am I." As she had silently promised the fallen men, her gun did not waver, nor did her resolve. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, the sights trained on the Fuhrer's forehead. "I'm not going to let you take him from me. Especially not twice." The shot exploded from the weapon, the sound shattering the quiet of the room.

The Sins were fast, but a bullet was one of the few things that was faster. The bullet struck his forehead, Bradley not even attempting to dodge. His head snapped back with the force, bending back at a sharp angle. An odd and disturbing sight that caused a slight twist in her stomach while his body remained standing for a few moments, but he finally looked up again, his flesh squirming around the wound as it pushed the metal from the hole in the process of instant healing. "So you finally learned the truth."

_ Dammit, he recovered so much faster than Lust had._ Hawkeye kept her composure, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing fear. "Disappointed, after all your efforts to keep me off the trail?" She stole a glance to the still form of Lust on the bed beside her for only for a second before snapping back to her superior. "Did you kill Maes Hughes as well?"

Pride smirked as he reached and brushed the bit of blood from his forehead. "I didn't have that pleasure. That was someone else, though I do know who." He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the blonde. "Now, enough of this." Drawing his sword from its sheath, he took a step forward into the room and let the tip drag along the floor, the cheap carpeting slitting open smoothly before he aimed the weapon at her. "I tried to keep it from you as long as I could, but," he sighed regretfully. "I knew you'd learn eventually."

Reaching around back to withdraw her other weapon, Hawkeye looked to the still form of a black-haired man on the bed. "Nice knowing you, Lust," she murmured. It surprised her how peaceful she felt about her own impending death. She looked away to face his murderer stoically. Though she now had the truth, justice would not be possible any longer. This wasn't a matter for human courts anyhow. Both barrels pointed at the homunculus, she took a step forward and pulled the triggers in rapid succession, one after the other.

Pride's single visible eye narrowed as he shifted fast to avoid a few bullets but taking a good number of them to both shoulders and arms. "Trying to go out just like Mustang did?" he scoffed. "I'll be glad to send you to him."

With a sudden lunge he swung forward, the blade only narrowly dodged by simultaneously ducking low and weaving toward the wall at her left, feeling a rough tug on her arm but nothing more. The rain of bullets didn't stop, but instead of hitting his head and arms which seemed to have little effect of slowing him down, she shot his blade arm and kneecaps like she had done with Lust in the very beginning. Ducking a another slice aimed for her throat, she darted under his arm and rolled to Pride's back. Her inhuman opponent spun in place, the various bullet holes blossoming a deep red color in his flesh but promptly healing closed after ejecting the bullets.

The Lieutenant slowly rose to her feet, the guns silent in her hands. Each round had been counted; all fourteen had been emptied into Pride. He smirked confidently and drew his blade sideways, his expression now deadly serious. There would be no time given to reload.

Reluctant but without options, Hawkeye lowered the weapons and glared boldly into the man's single eye. "Fine. See you in hell, bastard."

"Send my regards to Mustang." The blade flashed in the light from the bedside lamp and seemed to disappear as it sliced through the air to her exposed neck.


	2. Acclimation: Part 1

**AN: **Many thanks to the marvelous **Mebh** and **AntigoneRex**, for their wonderful beta work and endless encouragement. Without them, this could never come to pass. Be sure to go to their profiles and read some quality work.

For returning readers: This story has "leveled up"! I encourage you to read through again and enjoy the changes - not to content, but to style.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FMA, but I do own some spaghetti.

**Acclimation: Part 1**

One could question the rule of equivalent exchange; what had he or anyone else done for such a thing to happen?

It wasn't raining the day Colonel Roy Mustang had been murdered. It was a warm, clear morning in Central when he had been found dead in his office, surrounded by scorch marks and his own blood. Investigations never found the killer, nor a single suspect.

The Amestris government buried him beside his best friend with full military honors given to any soldier fallen in the line of duty. Mustang had been promoted to General as well, though it no longer made any difference. The Flame Alchemist was dead, and nothing would change that.

* * *

_I failed you._

Time continued on. Days blended into one another, each hardly distinguishable from the next. The passage of time was meaningless, after all, now that life held no specific purpose.

_I made a promise, and I failed to keep it._

For quite a while, she debated leaving the military completely. There was no way for her to explain to those she called friends why she felt her motivation leave her, so she kept her thoughts to herself and tried to figure things out on her own.

_When I was by your side, I never hesitated._

Even her aim suffered. Standing in the firing range for hours on end, the blonde practiced and practiced to steady her hand and eye, putting forth her full effort to get them to work in harmony once again.

_Now... I hesitate._

It was hell working in the same office where he worked and died, living each day in the shadow of his memory, a silent accusation and ever present reminder. After putting in for a transfer, it was granted very quickly and she began work directly under the Fuhrer himself. Even if her personal life had suffered a major setback, her career was definitely looking up despite having lost all personal direction.

_You needed protecting, and I was gone._

It was left up to her to dispose of his belongings. Due to military housing rules, she had to do it within two weeks.

_We both know it Roy... It should have been me instead._

Though she could never be called a "cheerful" person, melancholy seemed to hang over her at all times, causing whispered concern from comrades while she pretended not to hear or notice. One of Mustang's friends, the sparkling Strongarm Alchemist himself, tried to get her to talk about something, _anything_, but even he gave up eventually. First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye had become an expert at making herself unavailable.

_I'll never attain your forgiveness. But the least I can do is find your murderer, and Hughes' murderer._

Despite it all, Hawkeye kept busy. The Fuhrer sent her on errand after errand and there wasn't a single lazy moment where she took time for herself. Someone had murdered Hughes and Mustang, and whatever they were working on at the time must have uncovered some truth within the military that someone was willing to kill to keep buried. If Hawkeye did nothing to continue their work, then they would have thrown their lives away in vain. She was well aware of the risks, but they didn't matter. Roy... and Maes... deserved success. Even should it be posthumously. The killer would be brought to justice, no matter what true justice demanded.

_At that time, I know I won't hesitate._

* * *

Stifling a yawn, the blonde officer pushed through the outer doors of the building and stepped onto the pavement, beginning the familiar trek home she could take with her eyes closed. A good thing too they nearly were, from the long hours and constant running from one place to the other. Shuddering from the oncoming chill of the night, she stuffed her hands into her overcoat and kept her pace brisk. Small puffs of steam rose from her mouth, dissipating into the crisp night air.

Autumn was beginning to give way to winter, though there hadn't been any sign of the early season snowfall quite yet. This night in particular was clear and bright, each star shining steadily on the urban landscape below. Central was still and quiet, typical for the late hour.

Hawkeye kept her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her, giving the occasional instinctive glance up to check her surroundings. The risk of her investigations being found out should have kept her on even higher alert, but exhaustion took a heavy toll.

The way home took her past the warehouse district. Even with the adjacent aging apartments on the other side of the narrow road, this area was not as well lit as the higher class areas of Central. Officer's quarters were always better than enlisted, but the shortcut to her apartment block took her through some less desirable real estate.

One block followed another as she strode on through the deepening night. Turning the corner onto a quiet industrial street, Hawkeye felt a familiar prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She lifted her head. It appeared she was alone. Shaking her head ever-so-slightly, Hawkeye did not even slow her pace. It was nothing. At first it felt like it was her old "Roy Radar", but it must have been the cold after all.

The only sounds were the regular thumps of her boots against the pavement and the rustle of her uniform as it moved. An unexpected small sound from above rang out to her ears like a gunshot in the otherwise still night. Stopping and spinning, her hand flew into the folds of her coat and gripped the handle of her weapon, withdrawing it in the blink of an eye and holding it at the ready, out of the line of her sight.

The young officer's voice called out to whoever was out there, looking directly at the line of rooftops above her. "Who are you? Reveal yourself, now!" That was not the sound of a bird or any other animal. Hawkeye had heard it often enough to recognize the sound of boots scraping against concrete. There was no doubt in her mind that she was not alone. Someone was up there but she couldn't pin him down to an exact spot. Whoever was following her was good, but even as tired as she was, her guard was up in an instant.

Slowly, keeping her eye on the darkness above her, Hawkeye backed away towards the street. No need to give whoever it was the further advantage of being able to drop on her from above. With voice resonating strength and intent, Hawkeye tried to encourage her "companion" to come out. "Come on, I know you're there. No sense hiding any longer." Even though the sound came from above, the blonde glanced around her surroundings. There was no reason to assume there was only one assailant lurking out there in the darkness.

Nothing happened. She wasn't so easily fooled, however. Her reddish-brown eyes scanned the edge of the building, watching for movement. Eventually, it came. A dark figure rose from a crouching position, the dim profile outlined by the light of the stars behind him. The weapon in her hand rose in an instant and trained on the figure. Right before she prepared to speak again, it stepped right off the roof into a deadly three story fall. The small sights on the pistol followed the jump from the roof partway until she realized there was no longer any point after that suicidal step. The weapon jerked back into place as a wave of surprise washed over her when she realized the man was very much alive, unharmed, and remained on his feet in front of her. There was no flat thud of impact, no sign of pain. Instead, the man advanced, the sound of boots hitting concrete and echoing down the empty street.

No one could do that! There wasn't much time to process her thoughts as the dark figure closed in on her. Hawkeye only took a single step back with one foot, playing it off as stabilizing herself. No, it was impossible for a human, it had to be...

"Stay back or I will fire. Who are-" At that moment the figure stepped into the dim light of a streetlamp and Hawkeye lost her resolve in the very next heartbeat, eyes widening in horror and shock. The gun in her hands lowered. She didn't even notice when she stopped breathing, though her mouth hung agape. At first the word she spoke was so weak and quiet it didn't make it past her lips, then she repeated it with whatever breath was left in her lungs. "Roy?" Still barely a soft croak.

His eyes visibly narrowed and his hands slipped into deep trench coat pockets when he stopped a few feet away away. "Roy Mustang." It was _his _voice, though a bit darker and laced with venom. "That's who this all comes back to... him."

In the next instant, faster than what was humanly possible, the Mustang look-alike darted forward. A gloved hand caught hold of her arm to jerk her forward into his frame. It was far too fast to fire a shot even if she could; Roy was the last person she would be able to shoot right then. The weapon almost fell from her grasp when she found herself propelled forward, twisted, and backwards into a narrow space between buildings. With her weight thrown off balance, she had no ability to resist his grasp until her back slammed against the cold brick wall. One gloved hand pressed to her mouth while the other held her wrist, his weight pressing to pin her smaller body into submission. Hawkeye stared at the man holding her, protesting cries muffled under his hand. One hand was left free for her to grab at the iron-like hand over her mouth and pull with all the strength she could muster in that compromised position. Unfortunately it was her pinned hand that held the gun and his grip paralyzed those muscles, rendering it useless. Her legs at first dangled before she remembered them, then lifted and braced her boots on his abdomen to push him away. The officer couldn't even think about this being Roy; her survival instincts kicked in and she fought with all she had.

He smirked at her fighting and shifted his body to block her attacks, what little good they were doing. A leg slipped up and forced hers back down while his body leaned forward to pin her even harder. A tongue slid along his lips as his face moved close enough to let his breath pass along her ear. "You're making this harder on yourself. But keep fighting, I like the fire."

It looked like Roy, even almost smelled like him, but the Mustang she knew would never act like this. The flurry of activity hadn't allowed her time to think of any other possibilities. _What is going on here? _Riza couldn't reply with his hand over her mouth. Pulling her jaws open as much as possible, she pulled her lips back and bit down on his hand, swinging a hard right hook into the side of his head. The blow jerked his head to the side and he winced at the bite, but he turned to face her once more, slow and confident with that same smirk upon his face. He growled, but he didn't appear as though he were annoyed. Instead, he seemed to enjoy it. Both meager attacks had failed, not even leaving an impression on him. _Damn!_

"Keep trying, it will make this much more pleasurable," he whispered.

Once his head turned toward her and she could see his eyes more clearly in the dim light, she realized with a start that they were lavender. Roy's had been dark blue. That newest shock almost made her miss what he said, but she heard after all and glared hard at him._ Was this a game to him?_

A flicker of some unknowable thought or feeling crossed behind his eyes, and in another faster-than-human motion, he spun her to press her front to the brick and press his weight against her back. "Now... you're going to answer some questions."

Hawkeye found her face pressed into the cold brick, the texture rough enough to scrape her cheek. Even if she couldn't fight back physically now that she had no leverage, at least her mouth was free. The Lieutenant sneered as his demand. "I'll do no such thing. Who the hell are you? What do you want?"

The smirk grew just a bit, his eyes lidding as his body pressed even tighter against hers. "Mmnn… I saw that look upon your face, so I think you have an idea of who, or rather, _what_ I am." He kept his tone soft, almost as a seductive purr. In fact, all his motions were the same. His body seemed to flow, shift and roll in a seductive manner. Almost to emphasize it, he rolled a bit against her. "You know what I am. Say it."

The blonde listened, squirming a bit at first at his grinding against her but stilling fast when she realized that was what he wanted. Then he leaned closer, intimately closer, and she shut her eyes tightly against his image. The fall from the roof, the strength and speed, the lavender eyes, and the fact that it was... it was...

"Who..." she moaned. "Who would try to... who tried to bring him back? No, no... It can't be. Why?" Her voice rose at the last word, more of a cry of despair than anything. "Who would try to make Roy into a homunculus?" It was as if the entirety of the universe were gathering to punish her for her crimes. Her free hand fisted hard against the cold surface of the brick wall, the other tightening around the grip of the pistol. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes pinched with pain.

Through his grip on her arms she could feel him roll a shrug with one shoulder. "A woman. I only saw her briefly, but she wasn't from a western country. I was taken away soon after."

Though he kept his tone casual, the intuitive woman could sense his words were strained. Her teeth clenched, trying to get a hold of herself. Her eyes opened slowly, pointedly not looking at him. "A woman. I don't know any that would want to bring him back. It doesn't make any sense." _Wait, what am I doing?_ As an officer of the military she knew better than to give any information to an enemy. Her eyes shut a brief few moments while her head pressed harder into the brick wall, focusing herself before opening them again.

"If you're here to kill me, you had better do it fast. You might be seen, and I won't tell you anything." The second she managed to free herself she had to try to kill him, as pointless as the effort may be. But even as she pictured it in her mind, she knew that for the first time in her life when she really needed it, her aim may suffer.

Again she felt him shrug. The fake Roy leaned closer, lips to her ear. "I'm not going to kill you." The cool confidence in his voice, that hateful purr in his voice, made her blood boil. "I'm more of a… lover, but a fighter as well." He seemed to be pondering his words, choosing them precisely to intimidate her. He kissed her neck and let his lips linger there. "No, I'm not going to kill you, you're going to give me answers. And I'll make sure it's as pleasurable an experience as possible."

The irony, how cruel, that the homunculus the former Colonel had killed now possessed his likeness.

She grit her teeth, beginning to struggle again. "No. I know who you are," she sneered. "And I won't allow it!" Using Lust's own body as leverage, she pushed against the wall until there was at least six inches of space between her and it, then dropped out of his grasp, spinning around and away even before she had hit the ground flat on her back to aim her gun at him and fire three rounds in rapid succession into his torso and neck. It was too difficult to take direct aim at his face yet.

The attacker's body jerked with each impact, especially the one to his throat. A sickening gurgling sound accompanied the blood that bubbled from the hollow wound. If he had been human, death would have found him quickly. The Sin staggered back with the force of each shot until his shoulder pressed to the same brick she had been against moments ago. His inhuman eyes widened then dulled as the strength drained from his body. Hawkeye allowed herself to catch her breath until he regained his footing and jerked his body upright, red jags of energy healing and pushing the bullets from his flesh.

"Who am I?" he asked with a wicked smile.

The blonde officer bared her teeth at him, face drawn in a fierce and angry expression. The gun remained in her hands, arms held straight and ready for the recoil for the next shots she was sure to take. The wounds didn't bother the soldier so much when she ignored whose image it was; she was accustomed to blood and gore. The expelled bullets may be new, but she didn't flinch or hesitate.

"My target!" she spat out, and fired once more directly to the center of his forehead, using the opportunity to roll to the side and flip to her knees, still holding the gun directed at the Sin.

The man whose name she now knew as "Lust" jerked back into the brick and his knees gave away to slide to the ground in a heap. This time the attack slowed him down a few mere seconds before he straightened and blinked past the blood that streaked into his vision. A hand touched the crimson liquid and with a sly smile, he licked it away from his fingers. Lust was up in an instant, darting forward again and approaching at an inhuman speed, completely ignoring the threat of the pointed weapon.

"Dammit!" _How many times do I have to kill him before he'll stay down?_ Hawkeye would remember the effectiveness of the head shot for later- if she could get away, that was. The pistol lowered and fired into his knee. The joint shattered and he fell to his knees, which gave her enough time to get to her feet and start at a dead run out of the alley.

She had no idea where would be safe place to get away, but she had a feeling he wouldn't follow her back into the office in an effort to stay hidden. Someone would recognize the fallen General chasing her and the secret of Lust's existence would be out. It was worth a shot.

From behind her, she could hear a growled "Sonnuva..." and the hard thud of boots running after her. Her military issue boots skidded and scraped on loose gravel scattered on the concrete as she turned a corner too sharply, regaining her footing to run at full speed back towards the office building. A glance over her shoulder confirmed the homunculus was gaining on her. It seemed hopeless, but she had to try. Spinning fast, she fired the last two shells left in her gun at the largest target he provided, his chest, simultaneously shoving the weapon back into her shoulder holster and turning to escape. It had cost her precious seconds to fire the shots, but it was effective. The bullets forced Lust to stagger a few steps, buying her some time as he was forced to recover and heal.

The sound of his footsteps quickened then abruptly ceased. Without warning, Lust landed in front of her, a dark grin on his face, fingers lengthened a few inches and curled into claws. A small cry of surprise escaped her throat at his unexpected appearance. There was no way to avoid slamming headlong into him, but before she made contact, Lust grabbed her coat, and using her own momentum, pulled her back into the dim space between the light of the gas lamps. Once again, she found herself pressed back against a wall.

"It's not that easy, Riza Hawkeye."

Her face set in angry yet pained determination and another gun appeared in her hand, pressed hard to his temple. "You had me promise to end you if you went wrong. Well, things couldn't have gone more wrong."

The words struck a nerve - Lust stared at her in mute shock. His grip remained, but the passion behind the chase suddenly drained from him. The lavender eyes unfocused, as if seeing something only he could see off in the distance, somewhere within her eyes. She watched him fight with himself and somehow lose, his strength and confidence melting away completely, leaving a man that was exposed, open, and vulnerable. Her gaze narrowed and she looked into his eyes intently, critically, but he remained captivated and trapped by whatever he was watching.

Hawkeye hesitated.

The smirk and facade was gone, leaving... what exactly? It felt more familiar, a look more familiar to his face. The barrel remained pressed to the man's temple but her finger didn't add an ounce of pressure on the trigger. Somehow, the look aroused an old protective feeling she hadn't felt since... "What- ?"

Enough focus returned to his eyes to show that he began to look at her rather than through her. His face no longer showed the violence and anger that seemed to come with his kind. The facade of the strong homunculus was replaced with confusion, loss, and an obvious desire to understand something. Lust didn't move or try to pull away. Such a change disoriented them both. Their bodies were still pressed close, locked in a strange standoff. The barrel of the pistol shifted ever-so-slightly as she readjusted her grip, her eyes riveted to his alien, catlike oculi. The hesitation came from the lack of a sense of danger, though she knew intellectually that nothing had changed. The homunculi were dangerous. _Then why am I hesitating?_ Granted, nothing seemed to kill him, but why wasn't she making an effort? Hawkeye's face lost its fierce character to be replaced with one of confusion, and just barely, yearning. The Sins had part of the body of whomever was intended to be resurrected, could they have part of the mind and soul as well? It wasn't so much a stretch of the imagination.

"What is it, why did you..." She took a breath, trying and failing to clear her mind. "Is it... Roy?" she asked as if calling out for him in a darkened room.

"I..." His eyes suddenly widened at the mention of that name and he gasped. The Sin's lax grip tightened and he shoved himself a few paces away from her. Clawed fingers covered his face. A groan rumbled within his chest. "You're supposed… to answer questions… not bring more."

Riza Hawkeye was a logical woman. Everything in life could be scientifically explained, even alchemy. Using logic, there had to be an explanation for this.

Running hadn't done much good, so the Lieutenant tried another tactic. Shoving the gun back into the holster behind her at her waist, Hawkeye lunged for the Sin and grabbed his black leather coat lapels, slamming him back against the wall. A familiar hard look settled on her face, one hand pulling his wrist down to expose an eye. Hawkeye pressed in close. "What 'questions'? What the hell do you want?" The determination she demonstrated easily translated to: _get to the point fast_.

The sudden strike and impact seemed to help bring him back to himself after a moment of recovery. His other hand lowered and that irritating smirk slid back in place. Those piercing violet eyes settled upon her again, a confident spark held within them. "Information. The images. They're of a man, one whom you seemed to be very… fond of."

"Of course I don't know what you're talking about." It was clear to the Lieutenant that this homunculus was mentally unstable. Careful observation revealed he was emotional, tense, confused, and oddly restrained for his kind. Instabilities could make it easier to manipulate someone, but she would have to be careful with this one. It was almost as if he were dual-natured. Although he was once again in temporary control of himself, the officer held onto his coat in a dominating gesture. There was still more to learn. "Do you mean Mustang?" Obviously Lust knew who that was or he wouldn't have reacted as he did at the name when they first 'met'. It was as if the bastard really were playing games with her.

"I believe you know exactly what I'm talking about." His smirk darkened suggestively. "I've seen quite a few images. Secret meetings, a couple of incidents in the office… I _know_ what kind of relationship you two really had." So without really answering her question, he did just that. Yes, it was about Mustang. "So with such a close relationship, you can provide the information to fill in the blanks... and potentially get these damned visions out of my head." The last was spoken in a growl, his mood changing yet again.

_Visions, information no one could know..._ "Do you have Mustang's memories?" From reports she had received of the other Sins, they seemed to be affected by reminders of their past. The statement she made earlier certainly had an effect on him, and that wasn't the most emotionally charged issue between herself and the former Colonel. "Prove it. Tell me why you burned me, what the smell of my burnt flesh did to you. Remember that? I'll never forget it."

If her first words had a negative affect on him, the last was much worse. He tensed, eyes clenched shut, his body arching back as if in true physical pain. She found herself holding him up instead of pinning him. His delayed answer came broken and strained. "So that no one else… The smell... pain..." Lust groaned from the intensity of whatever he was experiencing. "Stop... _dammit_!" Then he found some strength and pushed her away.

The force of the push wasn't that much, she took no more than one step back. Hawkeye watched his reaction, almost surprised at the effectiveness of that last tactic. He staggered with heavy steps that led deeper into the shadows left between the dim streetlights. A shaking hand pressed to his temple and the once strong and intimidating Sin fell to his knees.

So. That was his Achilles heel. There was no point to reaching for her gun anymore, but at least she had this.

Either Roy was still there or Roy was a part of him. He had been pursuing her, but now it was Hawkeye that wasn't about to let him get away. She looked both ways up and down the street before looking over her shoulder to him. "Come on, follow me. We'll trade information at my place."

Recovering from the unexpected 'attack', Lust cast a harsh glare to her from his position on the ground. Not only did she hold the upper hand, but they both knew it. He forced himself to his feet with the aid of the nearest wall. His anger flared and, despite his weariness, the touch melted the brick under his hand with a soft hissing sound. But once mobile again, he followed wordlessly, still dazed and his character very subdued.

**Reviews are love.**


	3. Acclimation: Part 2

**AN**: Many, many thanks to the wonderful **AntigoneRex**, my patient and talented beta reader. Seriously, ignore this drivel and go read her stories.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned FMA, a herd of kittens would follow Al wherever he went.

**Acclimation: Part 2**

They walked the rest of the way home in silence, with nothing but the irregular beat of their boots hitting concrete and the soft hiss of gas lamps to fill the clear night air. Cones of yellow light briefly illuminated them as they walked under the tall lampposts; first Riza with her dark blue overcoat then Lust trailing behind her with a long, clinging black leather coat. One coat absorbing light, the other capturing it - flashing it. Even his black leather pants caught the light from time to time. Now that she had time to cast the occasional glance over her shoulder, she noticed the red lines running down the sides of his pants, ending mid-calf in a filled ring. His pale skin stood out in stark contrast to his clothing.

Tension and adrenaline hid her earlier exhaustion, but when everything wound down, there was no doubt in her mind that she would utterly crash. Hawkeye looked back to the Sin following her as she pushed open the hallway door of her building.. "I'm sure you knew where I lived anyway, or would at some point, so I'm not worried about this." Much. No longer would she feel secure in her own home. The strained, acknowledging smile he gave reinforced that she had assessed correctly. She let him grasp the door before releasing it and leading the way in without looking back, avoiding his direct stare. She could feel his eyes bore holes through the back of her head and (without a doubt) other places of interest. Once she reached her own door, she unlocked the deadbolt, cold hands still aching from combat. Riza swept in, flipping a switch for an overhead light fixture above the dining table. She left the door open for Trouble to follow her in.

He remained quiet except for the unavoidable tap of his boots against the wooden floor. His eyes promptly moved about the immediate area, looking increasingly distressed. Hands shoved into his coat pockets, he leaned against the wall by the door, almost as if trying to disappear.

No rugs on the floor, nor pictures on the wall, her home was Spartan by definition. The couch faced the center of the spacious apartment, the back flush against the wall. To the left of the entryway stood a plain wooden table with two equally plain matching chairs, a bowl of fruit in the center the only decoration other than a houseplant in the corner of the room that stood on a stack of boxes. The kitchen further left of the small dining area was plain and neat, no dishes in the sink or on the counter. Directly in front of the door spread out the living room. Only the small end table with a bookmarked novel casually laid on it and standing lamp beside the couch implied that someone actually lived there and used the space.

Slipping her coat off and leaving it neatly draped over the back of a kitchen chair, she walked to the couch and turned to flop into it with a sigh. She reached up and switched on the standing lamp beside her. The room filled with light, leaving little place for Lust to hide.

Finally her eyes rested on the discomforted Sin. He looked so forlorn, standing there slightly hunched, that she almost felt sorry for him.

"If you're honest with me, I'll be honest with you," she said quietly. That didn't mean she'd say anything about what she was doing now, however. Stupidity wasn't her forte. To test this new arrangement, she leaned in closer, an arm draped over the over-sized arm of the couch. "Tell me what you're thinking and feeling right now."

The Sin glared. "You want to know? Well, I'll tell you." Lust's tone resembled a growl, betraying the effort it took to keep himself under control. "I feel... unnerved." His gaze darted about the room yet his body never moved. "I look around, see familiar things... but I've never been here. I know this room, the furniture- " He covered his eyes while the other arm crossed over his chest. "- the rest of the layout. Images keep coming, one after another... each different... over and over." His voice softened as he spoke - returning to that same vulnerability from earlier.

"Roy has been here a lot. So you remember what he remembers," she murmured, using present tense, considering the living shadow of the man she once knew and loved stood before her. His startling honesty said a lot for how much this experience shook him. Nevertheless, despite his similarities to Roy, having the Sin there felt like having a wild animal in the house. Hawkeye started and looked around quickly. Speaking of animals, where was Black Hayate? Normally the small dog was there to greet her by now. A brief scan around the apartment confirmed that he must be off on one of his late night strolls. Hopefully his return wouldn't startle the homunculus too much. She leaned against the arm of the couch and returned her focus to her guest. "Alright. Your turn to ask a question." No matter if she were asking or being questioned, she found herself learning a lot about Lust.

He peered above his hand at her, shaded lavender eyes reflecting his surprise. They narrowed, then relaxed as he sighed. He dropped the hand to his side. "I see these images, him... and I have no idea who he is. Not understanding why they come in the first place, that's part of the frustration."

It seemed strange that he didn't know about the Flame Alchemist. Perhaps he hadn't met the other Sins yet. "Homunculi are created when an alchemist tries to revive someone who died," she said. "For some reason, they take the form of the one they intended to resurrect, but some... thing else has possession of the body. So you have the form of Roy Mustang, and apparently his memories. Why this is, I don't know. But if you can feel what he felt, that is undeniable proof that something ties you together with him." Most of this was musing out loud, but if it helped him, all the better. "I know all about him. You'd have to ask something specific." Hawkeye looked at him keenly. "Why do you care? Why did you seek me out? Why not just ignore it?"

The Sin growled under his breath. "Ignore it? I've been trying since the first day to ignore it. No matter what I do, they come, triggered by things I see, hear, do..." Obviously frustrated, he pushed from the wall and stood straight, clenching his fists. But the next moment, his shoulders slumped. Lust sighed. "I know the mechanics of 'how' a homunculus is created and why they take on the form that they do. Envy explained all of that. But... I thought... if I put the pieces together, learn who exactly this is, maybe..."

There was something more important to explore, though. Something she had been working towards ever since... The Lieutenant took a deep breath and leaned forward, looking more intently than ever at Lust. "I'm going to ask you something important. Try hard to remember." Another pause as she steeled herself for the answer.

"Who killed Roy Mustang?"

Looking altogether resigned, he heaved a sigh, folded his arms over his bare chest, and closed his eyes in concentration. "I see..." He hesitated. "It started out normal. In his office... coffee… paperwork." As he continued, his voice softened, becoming more monotone. The memory seemed to draw him in deeper. "Then everyone left for the night. He was alone, but... not alone."

Hawkeye closed her eyes. In her mind's eye, she saw his office as it had appeared after the murder. There were scorch marks all around, directed outward from behind his desk. The alchemic fire burned hot enough to leave deep scorch marks in whatever it touched, but controlled enough to never spread.

As morbid and unpleasant as it was to dwell on her lover's death, she wondered just what exactly the Flame Alchemist had faced that night. Hawkeye was acutely aware of Mustang's human weaknesses, and had, in a hidden part of her mind, almost knew something like this would happen. But at the same time, another part of her had thought of him as invincible. What could wipe that confident smile from his face forever?

_Perhaps nothing_, she thought, considering an incarnation of Roy Mustang stood in front of her despite being murdered a few months ago. _As though his spirit refuses to be extinguished._

She opened her eyes and listened without comment, not interrupting the monologue lest the opportunity be lost. Her hands clasped in front of her, knuckles white.

The Sin's head tilted forward, his back found the support of the wall once more. His eyes remained closed. "He was on edge from the beginning. None of it felt right. Then he was attacked without warning. Defended too late: fire… slashing of steel..." His words grew softer and Hawkeye found herself leaning in closer to catch every word. "He's fighting back… flames and smoke everywhere... But it doesn't work." He spoke as though it were happening at that moment. As though surrounded by memory.

The pet flap in the front door swung open softly and Black Hayate returned, padding into the room toward his mistress before snapping his head in the direction of Lust and jumping to the side, startled. The little dog took a wary step closer to the man, sniffing the air and lowering his belly to the ground, ready to jump away at a moment's notice. Hawkeye turned her attention back to the homunculus.

Lust coughed as if on the smoke in the memory, face contorted in concentration and anxiety. The Sin's hand jerked up, clenching at his chest as the muscles of his entire body tensed. Hawkeye's heart lurched as she watched Lust's fingers close over the place where Roy suffered his fatal injury. Lust's eyes opened to thin slits, free hand lifting to Mustang's signature position with fingers poised to snap at an unseen enemy.

Hawkeye realized she was witnessing Mustang's final moments.

Her knuckles whitened even more, and she held her breath. His pained face, _Roy's_ pained face, dying, right in front of her. She rose to her feet without thinking, her body reacting on instinct. Her hands clenched at her sides, her face stricken. "Lu-" The first effort was weak; she couldn't force the air from her lungs hard enough. She took a deeper breath. "Lust! Stop it! Stop it now!" she cried out.

Black Hayate jumped back from the man with a yip. The pup proved to be quite brave and protective over Hawkeye, and in the past showed the same over Roy. Whining, he paced between his mistress and the homunculus, bewildered.

Her voice brought him back to reality. The Sin's body tensed and froze in place. He blinked and shook his head slightly. He lowered his hand and tried to straighten, but instead pitched backwards and slid down the wall to the floor, looking pallid.

Hawkeye walked halfway across the room then stopped, hesitating. She felt so conflicted. Not even half an hour earlier she had been running from him - with good reason. "...Lust?"

Hayate walked forward with hesitant steps and sniffed the Sin's hand. He whined, reaching out to paw at it.

The homunculus remained still for a few moments. Violet eyes focused on the small creature before his fingerless gloved hand lifted mechanically to pet him. "Hayate," he murmured, his voice soft, weakened. He shook his head a heartbeat later. "I couldn't see his face."

The dog seemed to trust him and the homunculus appeared harmless at the moment. Hawkeye closed the distance and took a knee in front of him, hands on her thighs. "You're... not just a stranger, are you? Roy is in you somehow." If that was true, the implications... There was no way she could leave him alone now. Even if she didn't trust him enough to turn her back on him quite yet.

Hayate gave a happy wag of his tail and stepped into his lap to press up into his hand, sniffing at Lust's face. Even as Lust raised his eyes to meet Hawkeye's, he continued to pet the small dog: slow scratches behind his ears, movements heavy and uncoordinated. Hayate growled in pleasure at the attention, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. When Lust paused too long, the dog's cold wet nose pushed up into his hand to remind him to continue.

"Riza..." he uttered with a breath of relief.

Hawkeye's eyes widened. Not only was that his voice, but his eyes had lit up with a new recognition that wasn't there before, his face reflecting a softened, even affectionate expression. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Roy?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

The recognition and warmth faded. She never saw Roy look so lost before, even after Maes was murdered. It had been easier shooting Lust when she thought he was nothing more than a monster that stole Mustang's image for his own.

"Mmm." His chin lowered once more to his chest, eyes unfocused and on the floor.

That wasn't good enough. This was important, right now more important than anything else in the world. Hawkeye reached forward and lifted his chin to focus on her. "Lust... or Roy... Who are you? Tell me." _Please, please let it be possible Roy is still here_, she pleaded. It couldn't be wrong to hope that, could it? Her shining eyes shifted between his, searching for some justification for her desire.

For a moment, it looked like there could be something there, some recognition. But as quickly as it appeared, it faded and Lust pulled his face from her hand. "Lust. My name… is Lust."

But no matter how he denied it, she knew without a doubt there had been something there.

She released his chin, but her eyes never left his face. She ducked lower to keep him in view. "I... don't... think so. Maybe you are Lust, yes, but... I can't deny that I feel Roy, and so does Hayate. This is how he acted around him." Hawkeye paused. "You're not like the other homunculi at all, are you?"

He focused on the little dog, fingers again moving through the dark fur. "No. I'm very different."

She watched Lust pet Hayate for a while, quiet in thought. Lust didn't know much about himself, she knew that much. "You're not a normal homunculus, you're definitely not human, and you're not Roy because he would never act as... brash as you have, to put it lightly." Pushing on her thighs, she returned to her feet and stood over him. "So what are you?"

The black-haired man looked up at her. The quiet stretched out and his expression changed. The confusion, fear, and pain she saw before turned to bitter anger, focused on her. He exhaled harshly and the anger disappeared, as though he won some silent, internal battle. He barked out a humorless laugh. "Hell if I know."

"You came to me for answers. I don't have them. I don't know what you are, or... who you're supposed to be." Hawkeye frowned, the stern look returning. "I want you to go away and to never see you again. And yet..." She sighed, feeling increasingly troubled. Part of him held Roy and she couldn't let Roy go, especially not without exploring this.

The Lieutenant glanced to the kitchen and back to the black-haired man. "I swear, if you try to do anything to me, I will bring up a memory so vivid and horrible you'll be left curled up on the floor in the fetal position." With her threat laid down, she turned and headed for the kitchen. "It's your turn to ask a question, if there's any you think I can actually answer."

From his position on the floor, he nodded once and continued to pet the little dog. Black Hayate yipped, looking into Lust's face eagerly and wagging his tail.

Hawkeye pulled out a pot and can of soup from a cupboard. It was against her nature to not offer anything to eat, so she compromised. Bringing out a tea kettle, she began to set up some tea.

Giving a soft sigh, his expression turned vacant. "Why am I so different?"

The can hissed and she rotated the handle of the opener. "I don't know, but I know Roy was not an ordinary man. You might know that better than anyone at this point, except for me." She put the soup on the stove and stepped back, looking through her teabags for just the right flavors for tonight. Something relaxing. Chamomile, ginger, eleuthero, lemon, peppermint, cinnamon... That combination would be perfect. Once the tea began to steep, she stirred the soup.

"But I'm sure the other humans had something special about them when they were alive. So why don't the others go through this much?"

A few minutes later, she presented him with a cup of tea. She nudged his foot to rouse him from his mental wanderings. "I don't know why you would want to be like them, anyway. You don't have any reason to envy them. But, maybe something went wrong- or right- in your human transmutation."

Now it was her turn to ask a question. "What will you do now? Really. Do whatever the other homunculi do?"

"'What the other homunculi do'," he scoffed. He took the tea and cupped it in two hands to inhale the heady vapors. He blinked and looked down into the cup, giving it a swirl while keeping it close. "That's a stretch for me," he continued. "I don't like being part of the group, controlled by 'Mother.' They're all pawns and none can think for themselves. So, if I have a choice of wandering and being confused about what I am, or becoming her puppet, I'll wander."

She prepared the tea to Roy's taste; she had a feeling Lust wouldn't mind. Taking her time, she walked back to the table and a waiting bowl of soup. "You have a mother?" The group seemed more organized than she imagined. "What on earth could they want? Surely they don't view us humans as any threat." She took a sip of her own tea before forcing down a few spoons of the soup.

Lust touched the cup to his lips and sipped. "I haven't been let in on everything yet, but yes. She's not a blood mother, but she's the one who gathered all the Sins in one place, made a 'family' out of us."

The spoon clinked against the side of the bowl. "It sounds almost nice, if they weren't a family composed of homicidal monsters. With people like you under her thumb, I'd imagine she could do anything she wanted." It couldn't be very safe to have Lust wandering the streets, regardless. _Has he killed anyone? _She watched him for a moment before returning to her soup. It was his turn to ask something.

Hayate ended up curling into a ball next to Lust on the floor, nose buried in his tail and heaving a contented sigh. Lust shook his head. "If you have another question, go ahead."

For this, she set the spoon down on the table and turned herself to face him directly. Her palms pressed together between her knees, an almost girlish posture she often took while distracted with her own thoughts. "Are you going to come back to me? It seems to me you came out of emotional need more than intellectual."

Lust continued to sip the tea without hurry. He tilted his head back to touch the wall. "In all honesty... probably. On both points."

Hawkeye leaned back in her chair, resting an elbow on the table. This could be a problem. On one hand, she wanted to tell him that there was nothing she could offer him. On the other, Roy was in there. She hadn't lived a single day since she lost him, and even sleep offered no respite when day by day, the sheets lost more and more of his scent. This man spelled trouble - but all she had to do was glance at him and see Roy's face. On closer look, she saw the mannerisms and minute habits she would recognize. She would never again be this close to Roy other than through his homunculus, and the idea that his living avatar might walk away and disappear wrenched her heart. The familiar smell on the sheets was fading, but it was strong on Lust - and a quiet, freezing terror crept up on her when she thought of the day Roy disappeared from the sheets forever. She sighed. "You made one hell of a first impression, Lust. Have you done that to other women? Killed anyone?"

There was no answer for a length of time, then Lust brought the cup to his lips and sipped the tea once.

"To answer, I'll just give you a brief overview." He ran a ran down his face then rested it on the dog's back. "Because of my face, I wasn't allowed to do things the others were asked. I spent most of my time in Mother's home, doing small tasks for her.

"She glorified it by calling me her bodyguard, but how was I supposed to be that when she made me stay home every time she went out? 'It's not time' she always told me. I accepted it before the change, but when my nature began to stir, the restrictions began to drive me mad." He paused to cast a wayward glance at Hawkeye, His eyes moved over her face for a long moment before he continued. "I couldn't take it anymore. She separated me from this so called 'family,' so why should I stay in a place where I was treated like an outsider? The others were disgusted with me and Mother hid me away... not to mention that old lady smell was too much for anyone to bear. One day when she was out, I grabbed a few stones, some money, and I left, working my way to Central. That was... two weeks ago.

"I haven't killed anyone, almost did." He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes with a soft, drawn out sigh, and Riza's breath caught. By luck he didn't catch her moment of weakness, but with his eyes closed and body held loose and relaxed, he looked the mirror image of her fallen General. "Some rough looking guy confronted me outside some bar. I don't know what happened, but my anger died suddenly and I just couldn't finish it. And for sex, no, I don't approach women the same way. My first was a little redhead. She offered what my body liked and I offered the money she liked." Lust shrugged as if it was nothing, but avoided looking at her. "After a while, a few girls approached me."

Throughout the entire narrative, Hawkeye remained still, absorbed by the story. The monster she faced in the beginning felt so absent from this man right now, it was hard to imagine it had ever been there in the first place. She turned from him and picked up her bowl to return it to the sink. Suddenly she had lost her appetite.

Lust opened a single eye to follow her. Upon closing it, he brought the cup to his lips again and finished the rest of the tea.

The bowl, pan, and spoons were cleaned, dried, and put away in silence to buy her a little time to process everything. "Do you have any more questions for me?" she asked without turning around.

The homunculus' expression softened once more as he opened his eyes to watch her move through the kitchen, his gaze lingering on her back. The question hung in the air, leaving a heavy silence. Suddenly, his body tensed and he looked away. "I- I can't stay. I need to think." The words came out in a rush as he pushed himself from the floor, knees suddenly shaking, stance unsteady.

Turning to face him, she propped her palms on the edge of the sink and leaned back. After the events of that day, even the carmine hue of her eyes appeared washed out. "That might be best. I need to rest. It's been a long day and a worse night, and I still can't trust you." A short pause. "You don't even trust yourself yet, either." Hawkeye averted her eyes and shook her head. "If you hadn't assaulted me a short while ago, I might have offered more help. As it is, I think the tea was very generous of me."

The Sin avoided looking at her, too. "I'm not sure of a lot of things. I'm confused and- everything is just so... hazy. Unclear." He moved to the door and placed his hand on the handle. "But there is one thing I'm sure of. I am Lust. And I lost control of myself to my nature when I saw you." Then he was gone, the door swinging shut with a soft click behind him.

She scowled at the door. That wasn't exactly a comforting closing thought. Hopefully that won't become a habit. Hawkeye brought a hand over her eyes and drew a steadying breath. This was too much, just too much. What she needed was a long, hot shower. That would help. She pushed herself away from the counter and gathered up his cup.

Hayate, disturbed by the departure of Lust, uncurled and followed her back to the bedroom. He stretched his paws and toes out far in front of him, bowing low and yawning as his mistress brushed past him and disappeared into the shower. Head tilted curiously, he sat in the doorway and watched the shadow beyond the frosted glass.

Though she used a light herb-scented shampoo, Hawkeye still tasted salt.

**AN:** The perfect theme song for this chapter is _Come Back To Me_, by David Cook. Try it.


	4. Acclimation: Part 3

**Disclaimer: **If I owned FMA, there would be full frontal nekkid Mustang goodness. Yus.

**AN**: My deepest gratitude to my beta, the patient and talented AntigoneRex. Be sure to check her profile if you want some _good_ stories.

**Acclimation: Part 3**

The next day was hard. Even in the days immediately following Mustang's murder she never found it so impossible to concentrate. Her reports had many typos (all of which she caught and corrected in time), she found herself in a random room twice with no memory of what she intended to do in there, and she forgot the cream in the Fuhrer's coffee. When her coworkers took note, Hawkeye played it off as a pounding headache, which was in part true.

When she at last found herself alone in her office and her coworkers all gone to lunch, she heaved a sigh and rested her head on her desk. Peering over the Fuhrer's thick appointment book, she could just see the top inch of a group photo taken a few years ago. It was of Mustang surrounded by all the people he trusted and called friends in the military, with herself at his side. She moved the book aside to see his face, replacing her hand under her arm. Times seemed so difficult back then, but it grew unimaginably more difficult after Roy's passing. Pushing those thoughts aside, Hawkeye lifted her head and reached for the first page on the stack of appointment requests. Later. Now to focus and get through the day.

It was evening when she finally managed to pull away from work. The night was clear; a sliver of a moon shone bright, and not a single cloud blocked the twinkling light of the stars. Unlike the night before, Hawkeye kept careful watch on her surroundings, especially the roof line and dark corners. There was no sign of anyone following. Even entering her apartment was a cautious task; she inspected every corner and closet. Nothing. She managed to sit down on the edge of her bed for no more than a few seconds before coming to a decision. Getting up fast, she headed to her closet with a look of determination.

Her full-time career didn't give her much time to wear casual clothes, but she had a comfortable selection. A navy skirt and white button-down shirt with little ruffle accents, and she wasn't even sure if she had grabbed the navy blue pumps or the black in her hurry.

First one bar, then another. In each, she would sit at the bar and order a light drink, surreptitiously scouting the patrons for a head of familiar black hair or a flash of black leather. Not finding what she needed, she paid for her single drink and left, delving deeper into the darker side of the Central night life, block by concrete block.

"See, Lust, I'm greedy as hell." The older Sin commented after pulling his cigar from his mouth, exhaling a puff of smoke, and giving his trademark shark-like smirk. "I only care about having it all, and that didn't work into the old broad's plans. The reason I exist is because she wanted something for herself that I just couldn't and wouldn't be. I went through memories as well, and she tried to convince me that they were real, they were mine, but I knew better. Hated the damn things and the faster I pushed them away, the better."

A woman passed, full hips swaying - an unspoken but not unnoticed suggestion. Greed's eyes lingered on her a long moment before he pulled his attention back to Lust. "Mmmnn... anyway... where was I? Right. To get what you want, you have to get past them. It seems like yours may be stronger than mine, hell if I know why. Just forget about it and live your own life. What else can you do? Get the hell out of Central and come work with me, you'll forget that leftover alchemy crap soon enough."

Lust sighed and leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows upon his knees. The two Sins were tucked in a back room of a side street bar. It was one of the places that the elder found through his connections for his very rare visits to Central. Apparently, the only reason for Greed's visit to Central was to find Lust, the newest runaway Sin. The drinks were plenty and so were the women. A few women had succeeded in taking his attention for a while, but nothing helped him forget. Lust reached to the table in front of him, gloved hand taking hold of the drink that had almost been forgotten in their talk.

"Like I told you, they just... take over. It's not like seeing images in a flashback. They're strong."

Shifting to the side of the leather couch, Greed grabbed a dark bottle, his hand glossing over in black to pop the top with a newly clawed hand. As fast as it appeared, it reversed. Despite the dim lighting, Greed could see the stress etched on the face of his new comrade. "If you let it get to you this much, you won't be able to control it when it does - Hey, where are you going?"

Already halfway across the private room, Lust lifted and shook his empty glass without turning around. "Another drink." Sadly, the alcohol didn't affect him as it did humans, but there was something about the burn that brought comfort. Without waiting for an reply, he continued out of the private room and into the open bar area.

The fourth and last bar, she promised herself. She was expected at work tomorrow morning. Staring into the fruity mixture of something she didn't really recognize or care about, Hawkeye took the moment to question the sanity of her decision. It was late and this particular bar was a place no respectable member of the military should step foot in, especially the personal assistant to Fuhrer King Bradley. She sighed, brushing her bangs from her eyes. With glass in hand, she turned in her seat to look over the dark establishment one last time. A nondescript door opened at the back of the room, . She gasped silently and her hand tightened on her drink. It was him. It really was him. He approached the corner of the bar without looking up from the floor, appearing nearly as emotionally drained as when he left her apartment the night before.

Without looking up, he slid onto the sticky wood stool at the bar. "Scotch." He barely breathed the word and his eyes never met the bartender.

Carefully, Hawkeye set the drink down and pulled out a few cenz, leaving them by the glass without looking up. Quietly, just so he could hear her: "Lust."

He clenched his eyes shut and his fingers dug into the bar's surface, but with agonizing slowness, he opened his eyes in disbelief and turned to stare at her. "Riza..."

Clearly he wasn't exactly pleased to see her. His voice was threaded with tension. Hawkeye looked down at the scratched counter, shifting in her seat to turn away from him slightly. "Well, Roy did say I courted danger." She reached for one of the paper bills she deposited and fingered it, fidgeting. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but sighed softly and remained silent, shaking her head. Maybe this was a mistake.

"You shouldn't be here." His dull gaze returned to the bar. His hand found the empty glass, hardened fingertips engraving small scratches on the glass surface. "This isn't somewhere you should be at this time of night."

A wry smile curled up the corners of her mouth. "Is there a safer time?" Hawkeye turned back to him. "You are the most dangerous thing I've come across in a while. I only have a desk job these days." The seat was uncomfortable, and she found herself leaning back into the equally uncomfortable back of the stool. "This isn't something I can ignore, you know. I can't think of anything else."

Lust snorted a laugh and released the glass. "And after all that, you don't think it's constantly haunting me?" An eyebrow lofted before his gaze even turned to her. "I've been reliving a man's life and even experienced his death. I thought you were the key to figuring this out and bringing it all to an end, but they've just been worse since then."

Even if he didn't mean to be accusing, she took it as such. "It's only been a day, after all," she answered defensively, brows crinkling.

His mouth opened to reply, but an arm wrapped around his chest from behind and a dark haired woman in scanty dress leaned forward to purr into his ear. "You said we could have some fun later. Well... it's later."

She failed to noticed the woman until she appeared behind Lust. Hawkeye mentally reprimanded herself for lowering her guard in a place like this, but her thoughts derailed as soon as she heard the topic of conversation.

"Go to the back room, I left my friend there. Join him," he answered in a low, sensual tone. The woman smiled and slid away to disappear in the back room. His eyes followed the jaunty tilt of her hips as she walked away.

It was one thing to hear that he played around with other women, but to see it was something altogether different. As soon as the woman stepped away, the Lieutenant covered her face with one hand and groaned. Mustang's body, doing things he would never do, became suddenly overwhelming all over again.

"I should go. I need to go." She let her hand drop to the counter top and help propel her out of the chair and away from the bar. It _had_ been a mistake. If she was searching for Mustang, she wouldn't find him here.

Feeling her shift and begin to leave, Lust turned and reached out to grasp her wrist. It surprised her enough to stop her. She looked over her shoulder to the homunculus. He blinked - as though surprised by his own actions - and he let her go, clearing his throat.

"Sorry." When the bartender returned with the drink, he grabbed the fresh glass and downed at least half of it in one go. "It's just that..." he breathed, setting the glass down firmly on the bar. "You are the key. You have to be, it's always you that I see. No matter how much I want to fight it or feel like I have to escape it, I need to work through this and overcome it before I can become my own man. That's what Greed said at least."

Riza was beginning to regret her decision to stay and hear him out. She scowled at him, unable to mask the hurt behind it all. "You say that, but I can see you're still waffling between chasing after your desires and living like a 'normal' homunculus. You may be in the habit of using women, Lust, but you can't use me. I'm not here to make you feel better. I'm not here to teach you how to despoil humanity without guilt like any other homunculus." With a dark expression, she turned on her heel and started towards the exit again.

He stood so fast the stool clattered to the floor behind him. He stepped around the corner of the bar. "You think I tried to keep you here just to make myself feel better? Why in the hell would I do that? Reliving those memories last night was the worst experience I have ever had... but it changed everything." He paused a moment, mouth working. seeming as if he didn't want to continue but he couldn't stop. "It's not about getting rid of them anymore. It can't ever be again after seeing that. And I don't know what to do with my life now."

She stood still, staring hard at a stain on the floor. The handful of other bar patrons, experienced with domestic disputes, pretended they didn't exist.

His anger dissipated, his fists beginning to unclench. "Listen, I know you miss... _him_... but I'm not trying to do anything to his memory or take his place. I just want to understand them, to understand why I care so damn much about people I've never seen before in my life, to make it easier on me." The Sin shook his head and began to turn toward the back room. "But I'll do it on my own if I have to."

Her lips parted slightly. "A person is the sum of their experiences and memories. No matter why, those memories belong to you now. They are in your possession, so they are yours- _your_ memories. From now on, they will define you and how you see yourself. Go forward from there." Hawkeye forcefully pushed through the dingy door without looking back.

A hairy, lanky man greeted her with a nearly toothless smile. His black greatcoat was heavily stained; his smell reached her before his voice did. Hawkeye stopped in her tracks, nose crinkling in revulsion. "Hey girly," he drawled. "How does ten cenz sound?" he asked in a gravelly voice, making a rude gesture in front of his groin.

Hawkeye twitched, restraining a strong urge to reach for the gun strapped under her skirt. It would be quite a hassle to explain to the military why she shot a man in this district, and why she was even there in the first place.

"How does a kick between the legs sound?" she huffed, storming off. She tried her best to ignore his petulant hollering and cursing behind her. Besides... Hawkeye was not a ten cenz kind of girl! Damn that Lust, this was his fault somehow. The Lieutenant growled under her breath. A place like this shouldn't even be in Central, the very capital of Amestris...

She didn't want to stop in this area long enough to call a cab, so she walked off her frustration. The clack of her high heels down the street of the darkened city. To give her some more time to work off the negligible buzz of alcohol and to settle her racing thoughts, she took a path through the park somewhere between Mustang's old apartment and her own. There grew an old weeping willow tree that overhung a small lover's bench that they dared to use once. She slowed as she neared it, looking through the branches wistfully.

It was a useless effort, after all. Roy was dead. Chasing after Lust was as good as chasing a will o' the wisp. It would lead her from her familiar path into unknown, dangerous territory, perhaps to be lost forever. She sighed, shaking her head. She passed the tree quickly without a second glance. Roy wouldn't be there. How could any part of his soul bear to be in such a situation? She reached up and touched her face, then brushed her bangs from her blank, staring eyes in a numb daze. Nothing felt quite right, entirely real. Perhaps it was shock. Meeting Lust was a heavy blow to her sense of reality. A dramatic paradigm shift that left her mentally reeling for purchase, something stable to hold on to.

Once home, she changed out of her clothes and set out her uniform for tomorrow over a stack of boxes in the corner of her room. Hayate waited for her at the foot of her bed, greeting her with a wide yawn when she emerged from the steaming bathroom after her shower. Hawkeye smiled and scratched him behind the ears before reaching for her pajamas. "Sorry I was out so late, Buraha. It won't happen again."

His? How could they be his? Those images - the person he saw in those images - it wasn't him. It felt like they had been implanted, like he was being forced to watch one of those moving pictures he heard about in the city theaters. Stopping in the middle of the bar, he clenched his gloved fists, but resisted the urge to look back. If he did, he would not be able to stop from following her. The urge to turn back felt so strong, it felt like a part of him had already left with her.

He pushed the door open and spotted Greed sitting with two of his chimera companions and two delectable women settled in on either side.

"Well, he finally returns." Greed grinned. "A long time to get a drink, you think?" The Sin's lady of this particular night smiled and winked to Lust. The brunette that found him at the bar had followed his instructions after all. This unsettled Lust somehow.

"Yes, well... I'm going out for some fresh air." He nodded and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. He didn't give Greed a chance to answer before he hurried out the back door and disappeared into the night.

The Sin took to the rooftop, hardened claws digging into the stone walls and pulling him up. From there, the path was quieter. Picking his way cautiously over the aged tiles, the homunculus climbed over the ledge and sat down, one leg bent to his chest and the other hanging over the edge. Not too far away stood the most dominating presence of the city: the fortress of Central Headquarters. The gray walls were illuminated by spotlights, which accentuated its magnitude that dominated the entire landscape. Lust scowled at it. Attractive nuisance, he thought bitterly. In his mind's eye he could see the polished floors of the hall, tall glass windows, and even his- dammit, _Roy's_- office.

_I'm a shadow of a man I've never met._ There didn't seem to be any escape from it. As much as he wanted to leave with Greed and join his gang, his memories would always draw him here. He'd see things like he did before he wandered here, things that seemed familiar and gave him the feeling of belonging, of need. Of familiarity, when it wasn't familiar at all.

He turned his head to rest his cheek on his arms. His gaze drifted unwittingly in the general direction of Riza's apartment. If he tried hard enough, he'd be able to pick out the building. There were a lot of mean streets between here and there, the distance of nearly six miles. It was too dangerous for her to go home alone. Hopefully she had enough sense to get a cab.

Who was he kidding. He knew who she was, knew that she would walk anywhere without fear, despite the fact that she was just one woman and there was danger waiting for her anywhere. Hell, her enemy held a sword at her throat right now and she had no idea of the danger she was in. Chances are she'd meet the same fate as Roy.

Lust's gut clenched, his entire body stiffening. Every fiber of his being hated the thought of her experiencing what he experienced last night. Riza had shown him more selfless kindness than any creature on this earth. Well, besides Black Hayate. Hayate hadn't shot him. That's a good dog.

He couldn't sit there anymore. With a huff, he pushed himself up and jumped to the next roof to follow whatever trail he could find. She was in danger now because of him; he was the one that let her walk off into the night alone. His boots slammed onto the tiles of the surface beneath him, the material cracking under the force. A soft groan and puff of dust rose into the night air, the roofing material threatening to give away beneath his feet. He gripped his hair, violet eyes closing. "Damn it all to hell..." With a harsh sigh, he lowered both hands and simply stood there for a few moments.

He leaped off the building, slowing the momentum of his fall with one clawed hand. The stones crumbled to gravel and dust beneath his talons and clattered on the cement at his feet when he landed. The homunculus landed in a crouch as the crumbled brick fell around him, but he didn't stay long.

The darkness masked his approach. Before long, her apartment building came into view. No lights were on, but that didn't mean she wasn't home.

Lust moved through the dark passage between buildings and peeked into the nearest window. The kitchen - but no sign of her. A quick shuffle around the back of the building and he peeked into the bedroom window. There - a familiar form moved through the room. Lust relaxed, leaning a hand against the dumpster with a soft sigh of relief.

Once fully dressed and wrapped in a short robe, Hawkeye sank onto the side of the bed next to Hayate and scratched the soft short fur behind his ears. The little dog leaned into her hand until one hind leg began ticking and then scratching at the air next to her fingers. Riza let out a breath and lifted the blankets to slide under the covers. Without warning, Black Hayate leapt off the bed to the floor. The little dog lowered to an aggressive stance to growl at the window. Hawkeye jumped in surprise and looked in the same direction, grabbing for the pistol on her nightstand. They both recognized the uninvited visitor at the same moment. While Hayate relaxed and yapped a greeting, while Riza growled and rose from the bed. Her bare feet made heavy thuds on the hardwood floor as she stormed the two steps to the window and yanked it up.

"You!" she whispered harshly in the night air. "What are you doing here?"

The Sin took a few steps back and placed a small distance between himself and the window to see her better. For a moment he looked guilty, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He huffed and tried to put on an annoyed air, crossing his arms over his chest. "You put yourself in a very bad situation tonight. I know you can handle yourself, but in that part of town a lot of things can happen, even to the most prepared individual. I was making sure you made it back in one piece. So now that you're home, I'm leaving." He turned back to the empty street.

Hawkeye recognized all of his expressions, so hauntingly similar to Mustang's. She could read him like a book. It reinforced her earlier questions concerning his deeper nature. She felt herself relax. Letting her guard down was most likely a mistake, but she felt willing to take a few risks. "You were worried about me?" she inquired gently as he turned away.

The Sin stopped.

"I thought you are the greatest danger to me here."

He turned to face her. "Maybe I am the biggest threat. But not to you."

While his introduction had been hostile, something in him had made a complete 180 degree turn. Exactly as she had done with Mustang in times now past, she read what hid underneath the facade and even predicted Lust's next moves. Hawkeye closed her eyes and let her forehead rest against the bottom of the window, a soft smile creeping onto her face. So that's how it was.

"I see." A long yet comfortable paused stretched beween them. Then, "See you later, Lust." She turned away from the window without bothering to shut it and lifted the covers of the bed to slide between the sheets. Hayate jumped onto the bed and took his spot beside her feet, curling into a fluffy ball and closing his eyes after a long sigh of contentment.

"Good night... Riza." He smiled, then chucked at himself. Looking to the building above, he jumped to the next window ledge, then climbed to the roof. From there he could see if anyone approached, and there he remained the rest of the night.


	5. Revelation: Part 1

**Disclaimer: **If I owned FMA, there would be an FMA / Naruto crack- er, crossover episode where Kakashi and Roy would get into an epic "jutsu" contest.

**Revelation: Part 1**

"It has to be a man. She changed overnight, there's just no other explanation."

"I know!" a second woman whispered in a scandalized tone. "Did you see how relaxed she looked when she walked in here this morning? It was like she slept well for once – if she had much time for actual 'sleeping'."

The Fuhrer's office, she thought with a sigh. So droll and uptight with the expectations of the entire military to uphold the highest standards, it didn't surprise Hawkeye that scuttlebutt would run rampant if the most rigidly held of them all showed some personality changes. Especially if she recently experienced a traumatic loss under mysterious circumstances.

"Even the Fuhrer looks happier," a deeper, male voice added. "I know it sounds impossible, but I saw him smile at her when she wasn't looking."

"You're not suggesting-" the first woman broke in.

The man laughed. "No, no, not at all. But everyone is relieved she seems to have gotten over her slump."

"Yep. Has to be a man," said the first. "No other explanation. But who is it?"

Unbeknownst to the small group beyond the closed door of the office, the subject in question stood just outside in the hall with the usual thick schedule book in her arms. Hawkeye couldn't help but smile; she expected the two secretaries from down the hall to gossip, they were known for that. But the General from the floor below? That was new. When she pushed through the door, she pretended to be oblivious to their murmurings and curious eyes. If they only knew.

* * *

She pointedly ignored him, but she felt him always near. Even if they weren't interacting directly, Hawkeye felt less lonely. In a drastic change from their first meeting, she felt absolutely no danger emanating from Lust. It must have something to do with the reason he felt drawn to her in the first place and his internal struggle after he faced her; that was her only explanation for it. Within the Sin nestled a part of Roy, and somehow their meeting had awakened that element within him. Knowing Roy, it would never grow dormant again.

When she woke each morning, she stood at the open bedroom window until she heard the dull scrape of a boot on her roof or some other sign of his presence. Then she would smile wryly and leave the window to begin her day. At times she caught glimpses of him on the rooftop or around corners. He always appeared at ease - comfortable in his own brand of casual sensuality. His inviting bedroom eyes made her breath hitch when he managed to catch her gaze on her walks to and from work. That bastard.

This new arrangement allowed her to focus more upon her work. Appointments to maneuver, travel arrangements made, and a flood of requests to streamline that ranged from the mundane to the absurd. No matter what was thrown at her, the Lieutenant efficiently handled it all and made the Fuhrer's life run so much more smoothly. The work wasn't altogether different from what she did under Colonel Mustang.

If the homunculus had stayed at the periphery, life could have continued in that fashion for a while. But each day he moved closer at every opportunity. With her alone, it was fine. She could ignore when food disappeared from her kitchen when she was taking a shower (but she did start locking her bathroom door, for what it was worth), but seeing him dart in and out of rooms within Central Headquarters itself, of all places, was far too much. The brief moments she privately shot him a deadly look were answered with a cocky smirk; her anger didn't seem to deter him at all. It was a game he enjoyed, a game that grew more dangerous by the day.

* * *

Even as the assistant to the Fuhrer, she spent as much time as possible with the other officers in the joint office next door, preferring the presence of others to her lonely, oversized desk inside the Fuhrer's office. One afternoon, while working at the simple, regulation desk she borrowed for a few hours, she heard a light scraping sound from the coat closet.

She froze, pen hovering over her work. She knew in an instant what - or rather who - made the noise. Looking up from her desk, a quick glance at the two other men in the room assured her that she had been the only one to hear it. The men continued to talk about some secretary on the second floor as if Hawkeye weren't there. Standing slowly, the chair rolled back as she pushed it behind her. The blonde took a file into her hand and walked to the closet to cautiously open the door.

The black-haired Sin within squinted and blinked to adjust to the sudden light, leaning back. His shoulder nudged one of the hangers on the rack and recreated the sound she heard moments ago. Unexpectedly exposed in such an undignified manner (in a closet of all places!), the man lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his chest, putting on smug airs as if this was all part of his plan.

Hawkeye gave him a warning glare, reached out to push the wire hangers away from him, then swiftly smacked him over the head with the file. The opened door blocked the view from the others in the room, so the reprimand remained unseen.

Lust gave a very un-Sin-like squeak and winced, reaching up to rub the top of his head. With his hair sticking up in all directions around his hand and the very stricken and surprised expression on his face, it took all her restraint to maintain her usual calm countenance. Hawkeye shut the door and returned to her desk as if nothing had happened.

Hearing the sound, one of the men looked over at her. "Lieutenant Hawkeye? What was that?"

"A roach." She lifted the file. "Got him."

The men looked at each other, no doubt wondering if the squeak came from the roach or the blonde lieutenant, but they shrugged and continued with the previous conversation. The Hawk would never admit to being scared of a bug, anyway.

The woman sighed and leaned over her work with a slight shake of her head. They were going to have a talk tonight.

* * *

With the workday over, everyone trickled out of the shared office at their own pace. Hawkeye returned to the empty room after submitting her final report to the Fuhrer. After a short pause, she announced, "You can come out of the closet now, Lust."

Lust touched the handle but stopped before turning it. As Lust and a master of perversion, he caught the gibe in that comment and narrowed his eyes. There was no way that could not be meant as a double entendre and he wasn't going to fall for it.

He looked around the darkened closet and noted the flimsy ceiling tiles above. Standing on his toes, he pushed one up and out of the way, then jumped for the exposed pipes above to pull himself into the space between floors. After replacing the panel, he crawled through the narrow space until he found a tile above one of the empty desks. The square lifted up with ease. He dropped in a crouch onto the floor below. Lust smirked at the Lieutenant, feeling triumphant. Yes, he had indeed just taken a long route to avoid being the butt of a joke.

Riza groaned and relaxed from her jolt of surprise his unexpected appearance gave her. "Just use the door, Lust, for heaven's sake." She nodded upward to the open space. "Close that up and let's get out of here."

He didn't know why, but he felt a little bit of joy at seeing her annoyed at him like this. His playfulness would perhaps push her into genuine anger at times, but he enjoyed it. He grasped the edge of the plaster tile above and lifted it back into place, then hopped off the desk and landed with a soft thud on the floor. The black leather of his trench coat fell and clung to his form like a second skin. Lust strolled around her, stopped directly behind her, and leaned in close to inhale her unique scent. She watched this little display of his but didn't turn around to follow the movement. It was a show of her typical fearlessness. He loved it.

"Finally taking me home with you?" he murmured suggestively an inch from her flesh, letting his warm, moist breath caress the shell of her ear.

Helplessly triggered by the sensation and the implication behind it, the Lieutenant's tough mask slipped and he felt her shiver. A quiet laugh rumbled through his chest. Hell yes, Lust was the best sin of them all.

The lieutenant recovered quickly. She moved her head to the side to address him, eyes narrowed. "All that matters is that you get out of here. This is Central HQ. There couldn't be a worse place for you in all the world than right here. We'll more talk about that later." She let her arms fall away and up into a long stretch, then turned on her heel to march across the room and out the door.

He watched and waited. Once she disappeared into the hallway, the Sin moved to the window. He couldn't climb up to the roof from there, the marks he left would be noticed and possibly recognized by the bastard he was trying to avoid. The best choice was to take a ground route. Thankfully the moving sun cast a shadow on that side of the building. Lust eased onto the small ledge below the window then dropped the few stories down to the ground level. He landed in a crouch and darted low behind the shrubbery to avoid any potential prying eyes. Skulking could be a pain at times.

Hawkeye held her arms folded behind her back and strolled down the pavement. Spotting an odd mark in the wall that appeared gouged out by a human hand, she shook her head and peered up to the warehouse rooftop. He stepped closer to the ledge and let his presence be known.

After scanning the street once more, she looked back up to the silhouette of her personal gargoyle. "You can walk with me for awhile. At least until we get to the more residential area," she offered.

While her offer was a little bit of a surprise, after how things had changed, it really shouldn't be. Lust thought about it. That gave them six more blocks. It was a long walk, but a very effective way to unwind from work and clear one's mind. Besides, sitting behind a desk all day wasn't very enjoyable. Nor was standing in a closet. He stepped forward and fell to the ground, landing firm on his feet. "Alright... a walk."

Riza resumed her casual stroll, pausing kicking a small rock on the sidewalk. "You're taking great risks to be near me, Lust," she said. They watched the rock roll into the gutter. "It's a risk to both of us. And I don't know why you're doing it, to be honest. I wonder if you even know." She shifted closer to him a moment to kick another pebble down the pavement.

He chose to remain guarded. Even her brief nearness warmed his entire body. He tried to put on the usual confident expression, but it lacked the usual spark. His hands slipped into his pockets as he mulled it over. She was right, again. He had no idea what he was thinking or why he acted so oddly around her. Lust only knew he enjoyed these games a lot more than trying to dominate her with fear - and it felt good to keep an eye on her. "No. I don't know."

With her arms still behind her back, she idly fingered the hems of her military coat cuffs while keeping her eyes on the sidewalk ahead. A few steps later, she kicked the pebble a few yards further on. "You're with me all the time, and as long as you're not trying to get fresh, I'm actually comfortable with that. But I object to you hiding in the office closet where you could get caught - and you ate Black Hayate's chicken last night." A pause and she kicked the pebble again. "I really think he gave me the cold shoulder this morning."

He blinked at the last bit and chuckled, the atmosphere already lightening between them. "I'll give him extra petting or something to make up for it. It was the only food I found in there that I didn't have to cook, so…" He ran a hand over his hair roughly a few times and let his hand disappear back into his coat pocket with a soft groan. The mussing only left him with more boyish charm. "I just can't stay away, I guess. I feel the most comfortable when I'm around around you for some reason."

Riza turned her head enough to watch Lust out of the edge of her eye. "I think it would do us both a world of good if we tried to figure these things out together." She kicked the pebble without having to look. "So we're at a truce, right? I really don't want to lie to cover up my discharged rounds again, or be chased, and I don't think you want to hurt me anymore."

The Sin shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you. There's still some anger there. It's anger at being compelled to things I don't understand. But yes, we do have a truce." Though what that meant in the long run, he had no idea. Both gloved hands clenched within his pockets. "I worry, though. About the others."

"What, the other homunculi? Why are you worried about them?"

He sighed and tilted his head to her. "Because they know I have overwhelming memories. You and they both know my creation was based on Roy Mustang. So they may come after you in order to get me back into their ranks. Once they had me, they wouldn't hesitate in... Well, let's just say that they wouldn't need you anymore."

Riza nodded. After a few minutes, she said, "So I am your weakness in that way. I suppose that all depends on how much you're actually concerned for me. The options are -" She unfolded her hands from behind her and began ticking off each point on her fingers in front of her. "- One: I somehow make all those thoughts go away and you are free to do whatever it is a Sin does; Two: I help you become at peace with them and integrate the part of Roy within you and you are forever an enemy to your own kind; or Three: either you or they kill me and take your chances on the resulting feelings you have then. Let's be honest, killing me would remove those options _and_ your weakness from you, and make your life easier either way."

He thought over those choices in silence. Without warning, he grabbed her collar and pulled her face close to his while the other hand clawed and lifted to her throat. She had to have known the risk, but she made no move to protect herself, though she gasped at the sudden, rough treatment. Her pulse quickened beneath his hardened fingers.

His eyes hardened into narrow slits. "You're right. Killing you would remove my weakness and break any link they potentially have to find me. But," His expression fell and his hands, with all gentleness, released her. "Even thinking of that hurts. I've... changed a lot since I met you."

Riza took a step away and straightened her collar and coat briskly, her eyes still wide and wary. "Why do you have to sound so disappointed that you can't kill me?" she huffed, smoothing her coat in agitated movements. "If it's a matter of nerve, as we've said, the others can do that for you."

"It's not just that I can't do it." His clawed fingertips softened back to normal at his sides. "The idea of losing you, of you being hurt in any way by either me or them... it physically hurts." He cut his eyes to her a moment, looking strangely irritated. "Why didn't you fight back when I grabbed you?"

"If you really wanted me dead, there'd be no way for me to escape. You'd want it too badly. I felt it best for you to face that realization while my nerves were at least a little prepared."

Lust sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What I just did hurts as well. I can't let anything happen to you. I just can't," he mumbled. With stiff, jerky movements, he turned away and started back towards her apartment. No teenaged boy ever felt _this_ awkward, he felt sure of it. How was he supposed to recover from _that_?

It took her a few moments, but she started out at a hurried pace until she reached his side again. "This isn't like the Lust that preceded you at all. There weren't any holdups about killing us - humans, I mean. It convinces me that you aren't a reincarnation of the last Lust. It must be Roy's influence. There's simply no other explanation for what drives you, motivates you to act as you do."

"Whatever it is," he answered, "whether he's really a part of me, or I'm 'malformed' in some way - they want to get rid of that part of me. They want someone useful, or at least not problematic and disobedient. I can't stand being controlled; I can't stand having to-" He broke off and sighed hard, eyes clenching shut. "Something inside me just - breaks."

"That sounds like Roy's resolve to never be in a position where he would have to accept bad orders," she commented. "What's more important is what you _want_ to feel. Tell me honestly: would you rather be able to kill me, or is what you call a 'malformation' more along the lines of your true desire?"

He thought hard. Would he really be happier if he could remove her from his life? Or would he be happier if they could leave him alone and he could let her live, perhaps even see her without playing hide-and-seek all the time? He took a deep breath. "I'd rather be malformed."

She looked at him with absolute seriousness. "I never once in my life thought I would hear that the only reason a man liked me was because he was malformed, and that I would take it as a compliment. One way or another, you've definitely taken me to a new place in life. Thanks, Lust."

He gaped at her. Confused, he tilted his head and watched her for a moment. "You're... welcome?" _How does she always manage to throw me off balance? How could that Mustang character ever stand to be around her and not always feel like a fool?_

Giving a wry smile, she patted him gently on the arm as one might a wild animal. Giving the area a hasty glance, she nodded to him. "Time to separate. At the end of this block we'll reach the residential area. I'll meet you back home and we can talk again, okay? This time we'll see about some proper food so Black Hayate's meals remain undisturbed."

"Alright, alright," he chuckled. "I hope he'll forgive me and not bite me the moment he sees me." The smirk returned home and he took a step back, turning into a space between buildings to find a more discrete path to her home.

* * *

Hawkeye watched him go then folded her arms behind her back and resumed her leisurely pace home. She lifted her face to setting sun and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. A version of Roy Mustang had been reborn and necessity required that Riza Hawkeye be reborn in a new way as well if she expected to survive the aftermath.

She opened her front door to reveal her little black and white dog, dancing around in excitement. Hawkeye smiled and leaned over to give him a few pets and scratches. "Buraha, did you miss me?" He yapped a few times, tongue lolling out. Hayate spun out from under her hand and ran further into her apartment to the open bedroom doorway, then stopped and looked back to her, waiting.

"Hm?" Pushing herself upright, Hawkeye walked back to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. She folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe with a flat expression.

"The couch is the usual place for guests. Never the bed. And especially never my bed."

Lust smiled at her from his reclining position on the bed, arms laced behind his head on the pillow, but the smile was a bit stiff. Forced, as though he felt uncomfortable. "Just waiting on you," he purred. But his eyes shifted around the room nervously and he rolled off the bed without a fight. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his exposed skin. "But, if the bedroom is off limits, then..." Without bothering to finish the statement, he slipped past her to stand beside the faithful little dog laying in the middle of the living room. Hayate lifted his head to peer up at Lust. The man took a deep breath and shivered from head to toe, adjusting his leather coat. Hayate lazily followed and flopped to a seat nearby.

Her brows knitted at him, a slight frown turning the corners of her mouth as she turned with him into the open living space. She looked over her shoulder to the bedroom but nothing appeared out of place. There wasn't much to be disturbed in the first place with nothing more than the bare necessities of a bed and nightstand to furnish the bedroom. Looking back to Lust, however, made it clear that something had happened. "What was that about? What's wrong?"

Turning, he rolled his shoulders as though trying to shed goosebumps. He shivered again then reluctantly glanced at the bedroom. "It- It just felt like something was in there, I-" Lust cleared his throat and rubbed his arms. "I felt weak for a moment. Well, weaker." With a soft groan he turned away and walked to the couch, but didn't sit down.

"Weak?" Again she looked into the bedroom as if the mysterious "thing" would appear and make sense out of this. Undeniably curious, she crept into her room and opened the closet. Nothing unusual there. Turning, she took a breath and knelt down to the floor and looked under the bed. Nothing there except a few of the usual shoe boxes. Not even a spider. Breathing out, she stood up and brushed off her hands. "There's nothing in here, Lust."

He did at least turn to look in her direction, parting his lips as if to say something, but closed them without a word. He propped a hand on his hip and rubbed his forehead with his free hand, then dropped it away from his troubled brow. "Memory says that Mustang was in here, _many_ times, but... is there anything of his in there now? Something... that could possibly hold a part of him specifically?"

That comment about how often Roy visited was probably another innuendo, but she let it slide this time. "There're lots of things that were his. I was his executor and sole beneficiary." Pursing her lips in thought, she stared at the closet door, mentally going over some items she knew were his. The shadowbox of rank insignia, lots of books, some photos and a few letters in a shoebox, his uniform and the flag that had been draped over his coffin. In the nightstand, she kept a few of the most meaningful personal items. Things she couldn't have too far away for those nights when the silence was deafening and she had to reach for something from the past to fill the gaping holes in her present. There was a memory box with a few more photos along with his gloves and a lock of hair inside. "How specific?"

Shifting, he thrust both hands into his pockets. "Specific. Anything that he touched, I can handle. So clothing, books, that's all fine, unless..." The homunculus paused to regard her for a moment before he finished the statement. "Unless there is something that is actually from the person meant to be brought back. Blood, tissue, hair, something from the body itself."

"Hair?" Hawkeye turned to the nightstand in a bit of surprise, then stepped around the bed and opened the drawer. "I do have that," she answered as she pulled out the wooden box almost reverently. "A lock of Roy's hair, taken before he was buried. It's an old tradition to keep a lock of hair from the-... the loved one." Her tongue refused to utter the word "deceased".

He tensed and his hands clenched harder within his pockets. "Yes... that would be the reason for what happened."

"What exactly happened?" she asked. She closed the box with care and returned it to the drawer. At the very least it would keep him away from her bed. With a Sin named Lust, that could be very useful.

Pulling one hand from the confines of the pocket, he ran a hand over his face with a soft sigh. "Well... basically, I'm a fake, I'm a replacement for the real thing. The hair is from the real thing. A fake and the real thing cannot exist in the same place at the same time. So, it steals my strength. I actually can't move if it touches me."

Hawkeye leaned against the doorframe looked at Lust with growing sadness. "'A fake'," she parroted softly. Quiet stretched between them. "That's... disappointing to hear, but I can almost understand it. Unless he was dug up, all the materials could not be from the original, and even then decomposition would require-" She stopped and shook her head, shutting her eyes for a moment. "It really doesn't matter. But the body I can understand." Lifting her face to him again, she continued. "But the memories you have are real, and even your feelings. Maybe you don't have his soul, but you still have his mind, his memories. What I wonder is: What does it feel like to be called a fake? It must be horrible."

A sad smile touched his face. "Our dear 'mother' reminds us that we are fake then tells us that if we work together to bring her plans to reality, we can be human, as most of us want." He laughed at himself. "But... you want Mustang, and these memories I hold could mean that I have part of his soul. I know that's what you want. So if we brought him to the surface, I'd be gone and that would solve everyone's problems."

"If it was that easy, wouldn't it have been done by now?" The smile on her face felt empty. She unbuttoned her jacket and shrugged out of it. "You are Roy as much as you are not. I never thought that human transmutation could ever work anyway. But you make me question that sometimes, Lust."

The waist cape sailed through the air after the jacket to land in a rumpled pile on the bed, soon joined by her holstered weapons. She stretched her arms over her head, fighting a yawn. "Well then," she exhaled, letting her arms fall to her sides. "If they wanted to become human, do you? And if so, what kind of human?"

"Actually, I don't know if I want to be human. I'm not obsessed with the idea of it, and I don't hate humans like some of the others do." He sat on the arm of the couch and folded his arms. "But I would like to live where I wouldn't have to worry about them, _a-a-and_ get some action," he grinned.

She smirked cheekily at his "desire". By this point she had become well used to his unique behavior and learned how to knock him flat as well as she did for Roy. "For all your memories of me, you don't seem to remember that I'm not like those girls at the bar that fawn all over you."

Lust pouted but didn't look surprised.

She crossed the apartment and stopped a few feet from him. "If you wanted to live far away from the other homunculi, you'd have to move to another country. Even then they may just pay you a visit, since as far as I know there can only be seven at a time and you'd be wasting the space for a more loyal Lust." She tilted her head, her bangs swaying over her left eye. "I can't leave Central. If you stay near me, you'll never be free of them. It can't be worth that risk."

"I've already run away from home. I didn't want to be used. Knowing them, they probably have some alchemic method to make me very complacent to their desires. And if I left the city and disappeared, there's nothing to stop them from killing you out of spite." Watching her through the fringe of black hair that overhung his eyes, he pushed off the couch and closed the distance between them to a few inches. "I'm still here, aren't I? Seems like there's at least one thing Mustang and I have in common."

Hawkeye couldn't hold back a smile. "Yes. From what I've seen, the inherent nature of a homunculus is the opposite of what you feel, so that is probably Roy's influence." Her eyes roamed his face, especially his eyes. Nowhere in him could she detect an ulterior motive or the slightest hint of dishonesty. "You may be right. The moment you were born, my life was instantly threatened. But you aren't obligated to stay near me. It's my fault you're in this position in the first place. I failed to protect Roy as I had promised. You should be angry with me, not... protective."

"Angry? As bad as this may sound, if Mustang had never died, I wouldn't be here. But don't blame yourself." He sighed and lifted a hand to press his temple, succumbing to what he knew was coming. Lust's eyes grew distant, suddenly lost in memory. "He was glad you weren't there. That way, you wouldn't see him fall. Besides, you wouldn't be in danger. He knew you were safe and that's what mattered to him the most in that moment."

Hawkeye dropped her eyes away. It sounded like him, ashamed at his own failure to not just his men, but to her. For someone who asked her to watch his back, he seemed to have his priorities wrong. Sometimes she wondered if the reason he made that deal wasn't really an excuse to stand in front... to protect her. All the way to the end, even his last thoughts were of her. Soon, she nodded. "He would, wouldn't he." It wasn't a question. She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. Facing him directly she nodded again, just once. "If I had been there, I'm sure I would have joined him in death one way or another. But... life seems to have a cruel sense of humor... don't you think?" She gave him a wry smile. "Here we are. If you want to stay in Central, we have to figure out a way to survive. Any ideas?"

But his memories weren't something he could turn off like a switch. After a long inner struggle, his free hand balled into a fist, the sharp fingertips digging into his palm. The pain seemed to rouse him from his reverie. He exhaled a shaky breath as the wound healed. Lust cleared his throat and smirked, trying to play it off. "Um... no, not beyond keeping a low profile."

Riza winced in sympathy. Remembering things seemed to be taxing so she decided to not push him. "We can take things one step at a time. For now let's work on dinner. Do you know how to cook? And we can't have you living on the roof anymore."

"Cook? Not really, no. As far as my living arrangements?" He smiled, trying to bring back the lighter feeling of conversation, "The roof was just starting to get comfortable. A chair, a couple of cushions, and it could be just like home."

She chuckled and shook her head at him. "I'll teach you how to cook a few things so you won't be tempted to steal from the dog anymore. And very funny. I guess..." She hesitated. "If you can behave yourself, you could sleep on the couch."

Lust pouted. "No place at the foot of your bed?"

"That's Hayate's spot," she retorted.

The dog at his feet gave a grumbling snort. Damn right.

* * *

Autumn passed mostly unnoticed by Hawkeye, who was forced to spend spent most of her days in the imperial offices of the Fuhrer. Only the slow change of foliage from green to speckled yellow and orange announced the changing of the seasons. A single thunderstorm blew through Central and lucky for Lust, it occurred after he was invited to live in her home and he didn't have to deal with a single drop of rain. The evenings were no longer comfortably cool, chilling two or three degrees further each night.

A full month had passed since Hawkeye first met Lust. Life had become more comfortable within the spartan apartment as he grew into his new lifestyle. Teaching him a couple recipes and the basics of cooking was an easy and enjoyable activity for both; the occasional smears of sauce on a face or arm and barely restrained laughter made the time pass quickly. The cooking lessons went along a lot easier once she explained that cooking was simply edible chemistry. Hawkeye even advanced his reading skills a bit by having him read out loud to her from cookbooks as they cooked dinner - and her romance novels on the couch late every night. She thoroughly enjoyed that, especially the pink color that crept over his cheeks at some of the more... interesting parts.

Over the next week, Hawkeye got into the habit of retreating to an isolated spot outside the Central Headquarters' protective walls to meet Lust. The chosen spot wasn't anything impressive, nothing more than a storm drainage ditch that ran past the sprawling complex, but it was peaceful and calm, a welcome break from the stark gray walls of HQ. Tall trees ran alongside the stream with grass and bushes filling in every available gap. A number of boulders scattered the area, offering natural seats and rough stairs down the steep sides to the water. It was there, on a flat rock perched over the edge of the ditch with a weathered oak reaching above and halfway across the stream, that Lust found her on her lunch break.

The Lieutenant lowered her sandwich and leaned over to see his familiar form winding through the trees. One pale hand trailed over the rough trunks as he picked his way through the brush. The black leather coat was long enough to trail over the tops of the tall dry grass, making it softly ripple out behind him before falling back against his calves.

"You know, some of my coworkers think I'm either being antisocial or have a secret lover. I told them they're jealous I don't eat lunch with them anymore, then dismiss it all by saying I prefer trees to four walls."

Lust chuckled and propped a foot against the rock, an arm over his knee. "Well, if I'm lucky, they'll be partially right. You are with a man. And they should be jealous that they're not the ones eating with you."

She set the sandwich down beside her and brushed her hands off briskly. He reached for a large bulge in his coat pocket and hesitated.

"If they knew I was with a man named Lust, I'd never live it down." She smirked and leaned in over the edge of the rock, trying to spy what he was hiding. "What is it you have there?"

Expression more serious, he straightened and fidgeted with his coat a moment. "Right after you left for work this morning I decided to try something… and I'm not sure how it turned out, but…" Lust cleared his throat, toying with the object in his pocket. "So when you said cooking and baking was like chemistry, it all seemed to return, as if... maybe he had done something like this before." Yes, he was rambling and it was rather cute, but he seemed a bit embarrassed. With a resigned sigh, he pulled a small tin from the pocket and offered it to her. A familiar muted rattle from inside offered her a clue to its contents.

The smile on her face grew wider. "Lust, did you actually make me cookies?" she asked in awe. She moved to the edge of the rock and almost reverently took the tin into her hands . With the lid removed, she saw that they were perfect chocolate chip cookies: moist, fragrant, lightly crisp on the outside. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, as the scent brought back a flood of memories. That shyness was just like Roy when he was a young apprentice at the Hawkeye house and presenting her a gift he made through alchemy or his new rudimentary culinary arts. He always excused modestly for his gifts, saying he hated being an imposition. After indulging herself in nostalgia for a few moments, she opened her eyes and smiled warmly at Lust. "Thank you. This is very sweet of you."

Lust cleared his throat and lowered his face to hide a blush. Both hands slid into his pockets and he kicked a few pebbles down the incline into the stream. "Don't worry about it. I was just seeing if I could do it. Chemistry and all..." He shrugged it off but wore a small smile.

How strikingly similar. "Still, thank you so much, Lust," she murmured.

He sat beside her to watch the stream swirl and rush around the mossy rocks. The temperature in the dip of the gully was at least ten degrees cooler than outside the canopy of leaves. A few feet deeper in and one could turn about completely without seeing or hearing a single sign of the surrounding city. It was really the perfect place to escape.

"It'll get too cold for you to come out here like this pretty soon," he commented, leaning back on his palms and crossing his ankles out in front of him.

Hawkeye broke a cookie in half and offered him a portion. He took it and watched her take a bite of hers first. Her brows crept up and she lifted the tin to see the rest. "These are perfect!" Brushing a crumb from her lip, she answered with a nod, "Yes. I'll only be able to see you at home then. What will you do with all that time alone?"

"Besides Hayate." Lust licked a smear of chocolate from the side of his finger far too suggestively than necessary and looked down to frown and brush at a few crumbs from his bare chest. "I'll run a few errands for Greed here in Central, earn a little money on the side. It's all I can really do in this city, but it'll keep me occupied when you're away." His dusky lavender eyes twinkled mischievously. "And you can keep me occupied when you're home."

"Everything is sex with you!"

"My name is Lust! What do you expect?"

"Don't whine. Besides, you don't always think with the wrong head."

"Who says it's the wrong head?" he smirked. "Lust is what I should be feeling, anyway. Lust means sex, simple as that, and I need sex, Riza."

"What you 'should' feel? Who's to say that lust means only sex? It never meant that before in my life. Lust is nothing more than a side-effect of love." Knowing this may be like speaking an alien language to him, she took a sip of water from her tin canteen, then turned to face him. This needed some thoughtful explaining.

"I've seen plenty of animals mate, and as much as they were driven by nature to reproduce, I've never seen one look like they really enjoyed it, nor did the pair seem any more satisfied when finished. Nothing emotional or spiritual, and even physically they looked as relieved as if they had just left a pile of waste in the grass. Humans aren't like that. You may be an artificially made human, but you're made of the same materials as humans in the same arrangement."

She shook her head, her bangs barely swaying over her left eye. "What you're feeling is the same need as any human. Bonding. Fulfillment. Love. Companionship. Security. Trust. Those are what are expressed in human sexuality. Yes, there are some exceptions to that rule, but they are exceptions, not the rule."

The smirk was long gone now as he listened with rapt, childlike fascination. While lost in apparent thought, his hand slid a few inches on the boulder, clawing a single finger to trace a small pattern in the stone.

"You really think it's possible that someone like me, deep down, wants those things? Mother and Sloth said we couldn't, it was impossible unless we were human."

"Yes, I do think it's possible."

"So... what if I found out I did want these things?"

Their hands on the rock were close to each other, so close she could feel the heat of his hand. "If you found out you did want those things..." She trailed off, eyes dropping to the tin in her lap. What if he did? "Then... I suppose you should try to find real fulfillment for those things instead of chasing a shadow of them."

His finger stopped for a moment and his gaze fell to their hands. Slowly, his hand slid closer until two of his fingers touched hers. "I... still don't understand it all."

Her gaze shifted from the tin to their hands, to the two fingers that dared cross the breech between them. She didn't move away, and her heartbeat quickened despite herself. Hesitantly, afraid and unsure of what she was really doing but at the same time knowing she wanted to, one finger answered by curling around his two, her thumb moving over the soft flesh of his clawed finger until the point it lengthened and grew harder at the tip.

She smiled. "An old man at the end of his life still doesn't understand it. All that matters in the end was that he found happiness."

He tightened his grip on her single finger, the edges of his mouth tugging upward. "Maybe... I'm already finding it."

Her only answer was a gentle smile from across their hands.

The moment was lost the instant Lust snapped to attention. His eyes frantically searched the trees above them. "I feel something. Someone's... here."

She set the tin aside in an instant and she spun on the rock to a low crouch, one hand already reaching back to the weapon at the small of her back. "Who is it? Is it military?" she whispered.

"So this is where you've been slinking around, brat," a gravelly voice jeered from above.

Hawkeye withdrew the pistol and aimed up into the treetops at the... raven?

As though answering her unasked question, the large raven shifted to the form of a slender... man? Hawkeye couldn't be entirely sure but "he" had a high black sleeveless top and what she most sincerely hoped was a skort considering her angle down below. It was the long, lofty ropes of hair that she recognized most from Edward's drawings.

"Envy!" Lust snarled. His fingertips lengthened into short daggers. "I don't care what you have to say, I'm not going back!"

"You really are an idiot. So predictable. It was only a matter of time before before you came crawling to that woman, defective piece of crap that you are." Envy grinned wide enough to show two rows of pointed teeth. He jumped down from the thick branch to land in a crouch in front of them, then stood and swaggered closer. "Heh, it's not like you had a choice anyway, did you? You don't even have a mind of your own."

Lust started, but Hawkeye remained steady; the sights of her weapon never budged a single hairsbreadth from the center of Envy's forehead. "Resorting to childish name calling, Envy?"

The echo of an earlier conversation ran through her mind:

_"You're not like the other homunculi at all, are you?"_

_"No. I'm very different."_

"How cute. A human fighting your battles for you. You keep growing more and more pathetic." Envy stopped a few feet in front of Lust and placed a hand upon his hip.

The jabs were too personal, striking at far too sensitive places. Lust's teeth bared, his eyes narrow slits but his breathing was too shaky to be of anger. "What the hell are you talking about?" he growled in a deep, rumbling voice.

The lithe older Sin threw his head back and laughed, a sound that made tiny hairs on the back of the Lieutenant's neck stand on end.

"You still don't have a clue, do you?" he sneered and leaned in closer to prop a foot up on an exposed oak root with a confident grin on his face. "Mother always wanted to protect you from knowing the truth about your origin, thinking that if you never knew, you'd be easier to deal with."

"What about my origin?" Lust demanded.

"Oo-hoo-_hoo_, isn't _this_ entertaining!" Envy cackled, rubbing his hands together. He pointed a stern finger at Lust. "About time you learned the truth, kid. You're fake even for a homunculus! Your mind was implanted through alchemy!"

The gun trembled in Hawkeye's hands, the sights bouncing over Envy's face. She took a deep breath through clenched teeth to steady herself. "Be careful. He's... he's trying to throw you off guard, Lust."

And it seemed to be working. "Explain yourself, Envy." His hands began glistening from the acid that broke out like sweat from his gloved palms, the acrid scent filling the air.

"Fine, fine, kid. Since you asked so nicely..." Envy's eyes were wide and shining, watching Lust keenly. "This ought to force you to wake up to reality. Listen close, 'cause no one's going to say this to you again."

"There was this Xingese alchemist that moved here to Central to learn Amestris alchemy. A man from our labs took an interest in her alkahestry and brought her in; she was in an unwritten contract before she knew what hit her. But the effort was worth it to us. That foreigner advanced our chimera research ahead by years within a matter of weeks. This piqued Mother's interest. Since the Xingese woman was already doing our dirty work in the labs we visited personally, she and the team of scientists she worked under knew about all us homunculi. They also knew better than anyone to behave themselves," Envy chortled.

"All their failures brought us a step ahead, though. At one point we had rooms full of cages stacked from floor to ceiling holding all their warped mistakes: humans with partial or no memories, partially human chimeras, pairs of humans with the same memories of the same man and claiming to be the 'real' man, herbivore animals that refused to eat anything but meat, humans with the minds of animals but the souls and bodies of humans, animals that went insane with the minds of humans, all kinds of freaks. She had actually been able to transfer and copy minds, but not souls... yet. We had a lot of hope for her to be the one to finally accomplish a soul transfer alchemy technique with the use of little to no red stones.

"But one day she disappeared along with a large supply of stones and a bunch of raw material for human transmutation. When we went to her place, we found her dead beside a new kind of human transmutation circle, and _this_ loser huddled in a corner." Envy's nostrils flared in distaste as he jerked his head in Lust's direction, sneering. "Another alchemist recognized some mind copying additions to the array, and combined with the newspaper we found on a table there, we figured out her plan."

Envy's eager grin focused on Hawkeye. "On the front page was your boss. His death made the front page that day - you must be so proud. The last bit of evidence was one of his bloody gloves she managed to steal from the evidence locker. That stupid little bitch actually made a homunculus of Mustang and give Lust his mind, his memories, on purpose! It was probably Sloth that gave her the idea. She later admitted to going to her and asking to have her memories removed. After we took him home we knew it without a doubt. Sparky's little traits and memories just kept coming up. Mother kept him close to help prevent it, but the ungrateful brat ran away."

The gun shook so hard she was forced to lower it and take quick, deep breaths. Hawkeye felt so overwhelmed with this new information that she couldn't even form the words to respond. As shocked as she was then, it couldn't compare to how earth-shattering this must be for Lust. Her stomach dropped when she saw his face, that of a man whose world suddenly fell apart without warning and left him in perpetual freefall. His posture was hunched as if punched in the gut, clawed hands hanging limp at his sides. He stared at Envy, open-mouthed and barely breathing.

Turning back to Lust, Envy's smile disappeared and his tone switched to absolute seriousness. "Don't think for a moment it was your choice to come here, Lust. You can't even make your own choices. Your mind is nothing but a copy of a dead man's that was pulled from the other side of the Gate. How could you live never knowing who 'Lust' really is? If you really think or feel something or if it's just the dead human making you feel that way? Even the Lieutenant over there. Do you think she actually likes 'Lust' when 'Lust' never existed? Or do you finally get it that she's only trying to bring her boss back again?

"Come on. Mother will get rid of Mustang's mind and those messed up memories for you so you can be a real homunculus and for once live your own life, be your own man, and stop chasing after what can never be yours. Do you get it yet, kid? We're trying to help you and undo the damage that human alchestrist did to you. We're not your enemies."

"How could you hide all of this from me? What gave you the right?" Lust's voice shook, his tone low and strained. The claws of one hand brushed against each other in agitated movements with the sound of thick metal blades sliding together.

Hawkeye couldn't stand the triumphant sneer on Envy's face.

Then the fire left him all at once. "I'm a flaw? A copy with no mind of my own?" His head bowed to stare in silence at the boulder upon which they all stood.

"That's right. But don't worry Lust, it's easy to fix. In a couple minutes, you'll have a fresh new start and be the real Lust, the real you."

The raven-haired man remained quiet, staring at the ground in front of him.

"Lust, you can't be seriously considering this."

He looked over at her, eyes filled with something deep that Riza could not understand, but she felt a barrier beginning to form between them. He said nothing.

Hawkeye had a difficult time dividing her attention between them, but while Envy was a threat that could attack without warning, Lust was more important. She licked dry lips and shifted her weight to prevent the muscles from locking up. She had to be ready for a quick escape if - no, _when_ - needed.

"You do have a mind of your own. Remember what I said in the bar? It doesn't matter how you got your memories. They're yours, and what you do from there is your choice. It's not like we humans have a choice on what memories we're forced to carry. There's a lot of bad things we experience through no fault of our own that we'd like to forget, and things we wish we had never seen. Everyone's experienced unfair things. But... Lust..." Hawkeye blinked away the sudden, hot tears that blurred her vision. The profound anguish she felt for Lust's sake filled her, compressed around her ribcage like a closing vice and made it difficult to breathe. The pistol's stock creaked under her tightened grip. "Is it all really that bad? Don't you have any memories worth keeping, any you've made or even from Roy that you don't want to lose?"

"Are you really that afraid to lose your last chance to have your boyfriend back?" Lust asked.

Envy laughed at her, a harsh and grating sound. But she barely noticed him. She was staring wide eyed at Lust. The Sin seemed to have lost the ability to speak through the tumult of shock and hurt.

"No... That's not it. I thought you knew that. I just can't lose another man that I-" Her voice caught in her throat and she couldn't continue.

Lust's eyes widened and he turned toward her, but before he could speak the shapeshifting homunculus lunged for her throat. "You meddling bitch!" he snarled. He was upon Hawkeye before she even had a chance to recover and raise the gun in her hands.

* * *

**A.N.** OMG I saw a Slender Man in the woods in this chapter! RUN! To **AntigoneRex**'s profile, who beta'd this chapter like a BOSS. Many thanks to her...

...and many to you, dear reader. Reviews are the greatest gift you could ever give.


	6. Revelation: Part 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, there's be a spin-off series named The Flame Alchemist. Yes. A whole series. And you'd LOVE it.**

**Revelation: Part 2 **

The motion was all a blur to her eyes. Envy reached out with his partially gloved hands for her neck, but a black and white blur from her left cut him off before he reached her. All Hawkeye could do was backpedal quickly and raise the weapon in her hands, but by then Lust was grappling with him hand-to-hand and prevented a clear shot. Envy's arms shifted to tentacles to slip out of the younger homunculus' grip and back-flipped just out of reach of a clawed strike. Both of Lust's hands were clawed to their full length of only a couple inches, the air already tainted with the acrid scent of the corrosive acid sizzling over the palms his fingerless gloves. The leather seemed unaffected.

Envy hissed and rubbed his raw but rapidly healing wrists where Lust had grabbed him. "You little brat, you're more trouble than you're worth," he growled.

Lunging, Envy thrust out a roundhouse kick into Lust's chin that sent him flying to land hard on the flat on his back, but he managed to roll away just in time to avoid the heel that came slamming down with enough force to crack the rock beneath.

A hole appeared in the center of Envy's forehead and another in his chest before the sound of Hawkeye's gun being fired momentarily deafened their ears. The force of the close-range shots snapped his head back on his neck and forced him to take a step behind to counterbalance. His head lifted to glare furiously at her, the bullets forced out of quickly healing flesh.

"And so are you, _Lieutenant_. Your usefulness is past its expiration date."

The attention was now focused on her, which was good for Lust by giving him time to get to his feet, but very bad for Hawkeye. She took a nervous step back and lowered her gun.

"Run, Riza!"

Both homunculi attacked at once, both on the offensive. Lust cut off Envy's attack by slamming all his weight behind his shoulder into his 'brother' and knocking him off the boulder into the gully.

Running was a good idea at this point. The environment provided privacy from wandering eyes, but it was difficult to maneuver in. Moving back towards HQ would bring the battle to the open and she was sure Lust would follow to protect her from Envy, thus exposing himself to the military. Instead she shoved her pistol back into its holster while turning to the opposite direction the men had fallen, then jumped off the boulder to the stream below.

A shirtless Alex Louis Armstrong landed a heavy blow to Lust's face to knock him back into the thick brush at the bank of the stream, then turned away with an out-of-place smirk to follow hot on Hawkeye's trail, metamorphosing back into Envy's typical slender form to maneuver through the thick foliage.

The freezing cold water exploded all around her the moment she hit the surface of the stream. It wasn't deep, no more than two feet where she landed and not quite three feet at its deepest. Hawkeye stumbled at impact with the soft silt of the creek bed, landing on all fours in the water. It was a momentary loss of balance; within seconds she was running upstream and looking over her shoulder for pursuit. The creek looked clear, but the brush on the other side was actively moving and bending in her direction. She never slowed her pace and took the incline of the opposite side of the bank at full speed.

Envy waded after her in a deeper part of the water and pulled his growling, soaked self up the bank with the aid of some exposed tree roots. Once he was up on his feet, he shook his arms of the water pouring down his body and charged up the bank after Hawkeye with fresh blood lust contorting his features.

As he rounded a tree, Lust's clawed hand impacted with his face, the acid burning and melting his tender flesh. The force of the blow pushed Envy backwards onto the sloped ground. It was a momentary victory however, for Lust was literally backhanded away, the black haired man slamming into the nearby large oak and sliding further down the steep ground. With the downward pull of gravity, Lust grabbed a handful of Envy's hair at the scalp and took him along for the ride. Both Sins rolled back into the water, a stream of roared curses following after them.

The gunshots were not quiet, and so close to Headquarters it definitely had to have garnered some interest. Once Hawkeye made it to the top of the opposite bank, she spun in place, gasping for breath, desperately searching for the two battling homunculi or anyone that had heard the gunfire. The boulder she had just leaped from only held her lunch. Moving along the edge carefully, she looked down into the creek. Not far from where she had landed, the two Sins stood grappling in the water. She had only just managed to escape Envy.

A distant shout pulled her attention from them. A few soldiers running towards the creek on the other side of the stream. She cupped her hands to her mouth to project her voice. "Envy! MP's are coming! Stay right there, and I'll have a perfectly good reason for having fired those shots!"

Glancing up at her threat, Envy bared his teeth in a wide grin and used Lust's brief distraction with the sound of her voice to stab his pointed arm into his gut and toss the man aside.

Lust landed on the embankment, curled upon his side against the pain. The stones power tried to keep up with the wound, but Lust was still young and he didn't yet have the experience and strength of the older Sins. Envy turned and smirked in Hawkeye's direction before his form began to twist, becoming a raven once again and flapped away to freedom.

The MPs were approaching quickly. The blonde officer jumped down to a rock ledge a few feet below. One foot lost purchase and she grabbed the branch of a tree with one hand to halt her fall. Using the branch like a gymnast beam, she swung forward and landed on the muddy bank below. Both her boots sunk deeply into the mud.

"Hurry! You have to run before they catch you." she said with urgency, yanking her boots free of the suction of the mud and trudging towards him. "Get downstream into the duct. I don't know where it goes, but you'll be out of sight."

He rolled stiffly to his feet, a hand pressed to the still-closing gash in his gut. "Don't look for me, I'll meet up with you."

In a grim stroke of luck, all his blood washed downstream and erased his only tracks. Now another problem was left. Just after Lust disappeared from view into the tunnel, she looked up to the rock she had been taking her lunch on and saw three MPs appear with weapons drawn. Hawkeye was standing knee-deep in the stream, soaking wet. She immediately raised her hands into the air.

"It's alright! It was just... coyotes. They were after my lunch, but I drove them away. I think I got one of them, too."

Each of the officers looked to his partners for silent confirmation and hesitated only a moment before lowering their weapons as one. No one wanted to explain to the Fuhrer why they shot one of his personal assistants.

"Understood, Lieutenant Hawkeye! Do you need some help out?"

"You really shouldn't be out here alone, Lieutenant. Those coyotes run all along this storm drain and scavenge all the trash bins in the neighborhood."

The third waved down a new patrol of alarmed MPs and left to handle the alarm her gunshots had stirred up.

What luck that she had chosen just the right lie to give them. Fortune was rather selective today.

Hawkeye smiled apologetically. "You're right," she sighed. "I'm sorry for all the trouble... Would you like some fresh-baked cookies?"

* * *

A full two hours after the fight at the gully, Hawkeye wearily entered her apartment wrapped in a military-issue blanket, locking the door securely behind her before searching the apartment.

"Lust?"

"Riza!" No hiding that relief in his tone. Lust poked his head around the corner and broke out in a wide grin at the sight of her, then stepped around, revealing him... in a very revealing way. He was drying his damp hair with a towel in his hands but other than that, not a single thread covered his nakedness.

"Gah!" The woman jumped, her eyes wide and helplessly staring. Granted it was in a roundabout way familiar territory (if she ignored the two small red filled rings on either side of his body that reached behind his back in addition to the ones on his legs), and granted that it was also _quite_ easy on the eyes, but Lust did nothing to hinder the view and watched her stare and fluster and eventually cover her head in the blanket with a wide, proud grin.

"Hey, w- what the _hell_! Get some clothes on!"

"Aw, come on, Riz~a..."

An arm jerked from the confines of the blanket and pointed stiffly in the direction he had come from. "GIT!"

Lust dropped his head, the mass of damp black hair falling around his face, and moped his way back to the bedroom with the towel over his shoulder.

Her head popped out of the blanket with a soft exhalation and she pulled the cloth tighter around her.

"If you would just take your clothes OFF, it would make all of this simpler!" he muffled voice called from the bedroom. "All you have are women's clothes..."

The uninvited mental image of a naked Lust wearing a skirt and blouse from her closet ran a shiver across her shoulders. "Some of Roy's clothes are in there," she called out quickly, but she suddenly remembered. "I'm sorry... but that's all I have. What happened to yours?"

She could hear him sigh and continue to search through the closest. "I had to wade through a sewer for over an hour. They're cleaned and hanging over the shower to dry."

A clean carnal Sin. That was nice. "I'll put them over the sink while I get in there. Let me know when you're decent so I can get a fresh uniform and get a shower, too. I'm expected back pretty soon." She made her way over to the armchair by the couch and flopped back into it. Reluctantly, she eventually leaned forward and began untying her soggy boots.

A few minutes later the man padded barefoot from the bedroom into the living room, frowning and brushing at the open white dress shirt and black slacks in agitation. He looked to her anxiously, then crossed the room to sit down on the couch.

Hawkeye picked up the black and white dog she had been petting from her lap and set him down with care, then rose from the chair, pulling the blanket tighter against the fresh chill of cold, wet clothes against skin. Yes, he looked exactly like Roy Mustang, live and in the flesh, and they both knew it.

"I won't be too long. Hayate can keep you company."

He nodded and patted a thigh. Needing no further encouragement, the dog hopped up by his side and laid over his lap.

The chill in her bones needed some extra time under the hot spray of water to ease, but it didn't take her long to clean up and get dressed in a fresh uniform. When she emerged from her bedroom her hair was already neatly clipped up and a spare pair of boots in hand.

"We can't meet together anymore. Anywhere," he started.

She nodded as she pulled on the heavy footwear. "Looks like they'll be watching me from here on out. We don't need to worry about the MPs at least. They bought my cover story, and your cookies helped grease things along." She gave him a little smile and rose to her feet, rocking up and down on her toes to settle into the leather boots comfortably. Still looking down to him, she closed the distance between them and bent to kiss his forehead and run her fingers through his thick head of black hair. Roy always enjoyed the feeling of hands in his hair, and she could tell through the soft release of air form his lungs and loosening of his muscles that Lust enjoyed it as well.

"Thank you for protecting me. I'm going to miss those lunch breaks."

Stunned, he watched her stand without daring to look away from her face.

"Riza."

"Yes?"

"Tell me what you were going to say... before Envy interrupted." The look in his eyes were intense, pleading.

She hesitated and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, avoiding his direct eyes for a moment. But only a moment. She was drawn back to his eyes again and couldn't resist. She cleared her throat.

"I don't want to lose you, Lust. You mean too much to me. I feel more alive with you in my life... you give me something to look forward to each day."

A ghost of a smile twitched the edges of his mouth. "Do you love me?"

To answer this was harder. It was something she had not even dared think to herself, and was actually afraid to. The answer could have implications on how important or less important Roy was to her. But it was impossible for anyone to eclipse Roy's memory, or take his place. In her heart. Ever. After a long pause as she silently debated, she eased Lust's growing anxiety.

"Yes. I do. And before you wonder, I love you for you, not for who you were ever intended to be. I love you for who you are right now, as simple as that." She swallowed down her own nervousness, scared that she was revealing her heart when he didn't share the same feelings for her.

He still couldn't take his eyes from her. Never had she seen his eyes look so vividly violet, so bright and clear and even full of hope. His hands clasped each other tightly over the sleepy, draped body of Hayate on his lap. The energy between them was so intense, as electric as if they were actually physically touching, but Hawkeye knew that if they did reach out and make contact, it would be a very, very long time before she could get back to the office. She knew he knew it, too. For now they restrained themselves.

"I... feel... that I love you, too. I don't want to live a single day without you."

He sighed heavily, shoulders falling and cuffing his eyes with a hand. "But... Dammit. We can't live with each other anymore. They'll target you now, watch you closely. If they see us together again... They'll kill you and grab me."

The hand fell away and his stared at her intently. "I'll watch over you from a safe distance. There's a place I know that I stayed at nearby. Don't come looking for me. When I feel it's safe, I'll try to come to you."

Hawkeye's brows were heavily creased, hating this turn of events. "But how can you ever know when it's safe? Especially when Envy can pose as anyone or anything." Even her tone was nearly pleading.

"I felt something strange before I heard the branches rustles above me. It felt like..." His eyes rolled up to the ceiling while his fingers continued to run through the dog's fur. "Like the pressure of a lot of humans all together. A lot of people all together in one small place."

"When will we ever meet again?"

"I'll figure something out," he smiled to her reassuringly.

It worked. She returned his warm smile. "I hate to, but I'm expected back in the office really soon. I can't stay any longer."

To lift the mood, he smirked and leaned sideways on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. The dog merely grumbled and readjusted to a new comfortable position on his lap. "Now, just don't find another lunch date to replace me with, alright?"

She turned away, simply waving over her shoulder, the smirk unseen but heard in her voice. "Only the Fuhrer. You'd have to take it up with him." Then she was out the door and gone.

* * *

"I've gotten to the point where I greatly depend on you, Lieutenant." His single eye appeared to be smiling, matching the nearly perpetual smile on what was always an intimidating face. "I don't want you to go risking your life so carelessly just to get a little private time among the trees. There are much safer places than that on the grounds."

In her fresh clothing, Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded firmly, the Fuhrer's schedule book held over her chest as usual. "Understood, sir. It won't happen again. I've given my most sincerest apologies to the men I've cause alarm and concern over my carelessness, and I truly hope you'll accept my humble apology for putting myself at undue risk." She bowed deeply at the waist, eyes on the floor.

The Fuhrer seated at his massive desk lifted his chin in acknowledgment. "I accept your apology, Lieutenant. I've put a lot of faith in you as my personal assistant beside Colonel Douglas. You've done excellent work and I have high expectations for you."

Hawkeye straightened to attention again, allowing a tiny relieved smile touch her face. "Thank you, Fuhrer sir. I won't disappoint you again."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant."

She snapped him a smart salute and about faced, turning to exit the room that held the highest seat of power in the nation. Before she reached the door, she nodded cordially to Douglas working at her own desk in the process of making note of the meeting that just transpired. The nod was lightly returned and the door opened for Hawkeye, a young sergeant holding a salute as she passed him and shut it quietly behind her, leaving the three in the room.

"She still doesn't know," the Fuhrer remarked while tenting his fingertips on his desk.

The "sergeant" smirked, propping a hand on his hip as he leaned on Douglas' desk. "Yeah, she can't act _that_ well," he answered in Envy's gravelly voice. "Way too relaxed to know the truth about us."

"So... Lust hasn't told her yet," Pride mused. "Interesting."

* * *

"Oh, Lieutenant! Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

The blonde stopped in the long hallway of Central Headquarters illuminated by the tall windows dominating one side of the hall and turned in the direction of the familiar voice, smiling at the sight of Master Sergeant Fuery's eagerly waving hand and grinning face. At his side, Second Lieutenant Havoc lifted his chin in greeting, an unlit cigarette dangling from his smirking lips.

"Lieutenant Havoc, Sergeant Fuery, it's good to see you," she greeted them with a warm smile.

The men caught up to her, Havoc clapping a friendly hand to her shoulder as they started down the hall together. "We never get to see you these days, Lieutenant! The Fuhrer steal you away from us?"

"I'm afraid so. I never have a moment to myself anymore. By the time I get home, I'm so tired I'm in bed soon after I finish dinner."

"What about his first assistant, Douglas?" Fuery asked, pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose with a finger. "What does she do now?"

"She seems just as busy as she ever was. If she did all this alone, I have no idea how she could possibly function with that workload." She tightened her arms around the leather notebook over her chest.

"You on your lunch break, Lieutenant?" Havoc drawled from her other side. "Let's go to the cafeteria together. Fuery and I won't be stationed here for much longer, we're being shipped out to Lior in a few days."

"Lior?" she repeated in surprise, brows arching up. "That 'peace keeping' mission? Central forces are moving in to replace the Eastern forces there, but Eastern was doing a decent job at keeping things as calm as possible."

"Yeah," Fuery sighed. "Sending in Central forces is pretty heavy-handed. They always come down hard and..."

"It's like Ishval all over again," Havoc murmured close to Hawkeye's ear.

Hawkeye frowned. "I filled out the forms reinstating Major Kimblee to active duty a few days ago," she said in a much lower voice. "The Fuhrer will have him transferred to Lior."

Havoc pulled on his unlit cigarette out of habit, then plucked it from his lips and stared at it with a disgruntled frown. "There's gonna be a slaughter in Lior. I was stationed elsewhere in Eastern back then, but there won't be any way to avoid the thick of the action this time."

Hawkeye looked gravely between the men on either side of her. Both were looking hangdog and didn't lift their eyes from the marble tile they walked down. "Please be careful over there. We can't lose any more of us."

Fuery beamed up at Hawkeye, the light form the tall windows reflecting from his glasses as twin white mirrors. "Don't worry about us, Lieutenant Hawkeye. We'll be alright."

Havoc nudged her arm from her other side, flashing her a matching grin while slipping the cigarette behind his right ear. "It is Central forces, after all. We're on the better side of the fence. Come on, let's get something to eat. Your treat, oh grand Fuhrer's assistant? We'll fend off any coyotes for ya."

The woman's cheeks colored faintly. "That was weeks ago, Lieutenant Havoc. I never hear the end of it."

"'The Hawk' beat down a pack of scavengers singlehandedly, you can't live that legend down so easily."

"Is this a military base or a high school?" she exclaimed.

"What's the difference?" Havoc snickered as quietly as he could while Fuery laughed into his coat sleeve.

* * *

Keys jingled outside the door, followed by the sound of the lock tumblers rolling into place in the door handle, and Hawkeye pushed through the doorway. The rest of day immediately following the meeting with Havoc and Fuery had been especially tiring after that casual lunch so she wasn't watchful upon entering, dropping her bag by the door and tossing her keys on a plain wood table by the door before she finally looked up. Lust reclined along the length of the couch with eyes closed and arms folded beneath his head on a pillow. The leather of his coat spread and fell open from his body, revealing a small red filled ring tattoo on his side with a line that continued behind the folds of his coat. He paused the course of his fingertips trailing up and down his bare chest to turn and smirk to the blonde. For her credit, she wasn't very startled at the sight of him. She smiled softly.

"Lust, honey, you really need a hobby or something." Despite the term of endearment, her voice expressed pure exhaustion as she plodded to the couch, shoving his boots off before falling back into the cushions she had just cleared off for herself.

The Sin adjusted himself to sit up. Reaching over, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her down, placing her head upon one of his thighs. "I do have a hobby: you."

Her eyes became hard, her mouth a drawn line as she pushed herself back upright with effort. "Pervert. I am _not_ a hobby. I've had a rough day, I'm tired."

A hand drifted up to cover a long yawn then fell down to her lap at the exhale, but only for a moment until both hands moved up to unbind her hair and ruffle the pale golden locks loose around her shoulders and rest her head back into the cushions.

"How long have you been here, anyway?"

"Just a few hours. Don't worry, no one was following me."

He smiled and reached out to again pull her back to lay in his lap, his touch gentle and guiding, not forcing. This time she let him, either out of knowing his intentions or because she was too tired to fight him, she didn't know nor care. Heaving a sigh, she turned to lay on her back and looked up to the Sin. Her hair spread softly over his thigh, a bright spill of color over his dark clothing.

Lust raised an eyebrow as a hand gently stroked her hair. "Bad day?"

Reddish-brown eyes closed with his soothing touch. Again she sighed, this time letting go of some of the built-up tension she had accumulated over the course of the day.

"He has me doing enough work for three officers. I don't have a moment of peace. I wonder how long I can last like this."

"Your boss is the Fuhrer, right?"

"Yes. He's who I work directly under, the one who doesn't give me a moment's rest. You know, when he transferred me after..." _After Mustang was murdered,_ she couldn't finish. "I thought it would be easier working so near the top. After all, he has an entire army working under him." She laughed quietly. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"He's... always been that way, I've heard."

She could feel the new tension in his muscles. One eye cracked open and looked up at him, but his face revealed nothing but a complete focus on her. It closed again. "Hmm. Well, I'm home now. Tonight I'll leave work at work."

"Good, leave it there. You're here with me now."

"Since you've made yourself at home, did you see if Black Hayate had water in his bowl?"

"There was some in there as I passed." His hand continued to slip through her hair, but soon slid down to her neck.

Her head turned slightly to the side, enjoying the attention. The back of her hand drifted up to caress back and forth over his bare chest, the fingers rippling over the curves of his flesh.

"Staying tonight?"

Leaning back on the cushion, his back arched just enough for his chest to press into her touch with a soft moan. Peering at her with one narrowed eye through the fringe of his disarrayed black bangs, he smiled coyly at her.

"If I can get away with it."

Suddenly he tensed, both eyes snapping open and darting around the room- no, through the room, as if searching for something beyond the walls of her apartment.

"Lust?"

Pushing her to sit up, he slipped from beneath her and stood to leave. Hawkeye sat up straight, alarmed.

"Stay here."

"Lust. Tell me. What is it?"

"No matter what happens," he turned and stated firmly from the bedroom doorway. "Stay here. Please, Riza. Don't leave, you'll be safer here." Lingering his gaze on her for a few seconds, he tore his eyes away and crossed the bedroom quickly, giving the nightstand a wide berth on his way to and out through the bedroom window.

Hawkeye had followed him to the doorway to witness his exit, grasping the frame in indecision. "What am I supposed to do then?" she asked herself to the empty room. There was nothing that she could sense, but Lust's senses were much different from her own. She followed him to the window and looked out, allowing her eyes some time to adjust to the deepening darkness.

Across the street she could just see the back end of a military vehicle from the narrow view the alley provided. Lust was hurrying at a trot towards the car as two figures in military blue emerged from two separate car doors. His trot slowed to a careful stroll, but the way he held his hands out to his sides was enough to tell Hawkeye that Lust was on the defensive. The two military members stopped in front of him, one folding his arms in a casual stance while he other remained ramrod straight. From her distance she couldn't hear even the low murmur of their voices. In one swift motion, the larger of the two moved and struck with a long, narrow blade through Lust's lower gut. The young Sin was immobilized and fell forward stiffly. He was then taken up as a piece of luggage and the two men hauled him into the backseat of the vehicle, slipping in after him. The doors slammed shut and the car moved off at an slow pace.

Grabbing her overcoat from the closet and throwing it on, Hawkeye flew out the window and charged as fast as she could down the street, trying to stay out of the circles of light from the gas lamps above. The car was easily slipping away, but she wasn't going to give up without at least knowing the general direction it was headed.

A little over a mile away from her home, the car slowed to a stop beside an old church and opened its doors. Three forms emerged, the two in the rear grabbing the still body from the back seat and carrying him into a narrow alley between the church and run-down apartment building it stood beside.

Lungs burning from drawing in the cold autumn night air so hard, Hawkeye approached more carefully, clinging to the shadows and sliding along brick walls, following the small group. She slowed as she approached the car but saw it was empty now. Ducking low and forcing her breaths to slow and quiet, she peeked around the corner of the the apartment building.

One form was holding open a low door or sorts for the other two to carry in the still body of Lust, then ducked in after them. The door swung closed with a quiet creak of old metal. After they disappeared into the passage, she waited a few moments before following. If it was an enclosed area, it would be harder to hide in there. She crept closer and touched the cold metal of the low doors. In the darkness, she could only make out that it had some type of ornate embossed decoration on it before pulling it open and slipping in after them, all her training keeping her movements silent.

The corridor widened soon after entering, allowing Hawkeye to continue through standing upright. It was nearly pitch black under the old church, but far in the distance she could see the faint glow of light. One hand reached out to run along the side of the wall to avoid bumping against it while the other reached behind and withdrew the pistol from the holster at her lower back.

The decent was at all times steep, eventually turning into an ancient stairwell that seemed to go on forever. The closer she came to the bottom, more light illuminated the building. The architecture still had a church-like feel to it, but felt much older and grander the further from the surface she traveled. Now it almost seemed like a temple. She clung to the walls as she followed, pistol gripped firmly and steadily in one hand. It was a miracle she had not been discovered yet, but there was no telling when her luck would wear out. Still she pressed on, keeping a safe distance between herself and her targets. Her surroundings barely interested her, so intent was her focus on her task. Now was not the time to wonder where she was or why it was here, only to remember her path so she could find her way out again. At the bottom of the stairway, wall torches lit and guided the way through gilded halls and corridors, finally opening up to a large, brightly lit ballroom of red and gold. It was empty, devoid of furniture, holding only the three persons in military garb and their immobile hostage.

Hawkeye lowered herself behind a pilaster and hunkered down, making herself as invisible and low as possible.

Lust was tossed to the floor with the blade still run through his lower abdomen, the area she recognized as where his Oroborus marking was held.

"Bastards..." A strained grunt at the hard landing on the marble floor. "What in the hell do you want?" Lust might not have been able to move, but he could at least speak.

"Even in this incarnation you're still insubordinate. You'll learn your place and position one way or another."

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed at the familiar voice and stature. She could swear even at this distance it seemed remarkably like the Fuhrer's.

Always the smart ass, Lust smirked. "You're just jealous you don't have a position with me, Pride. I knew you looked at me differently."

Pride reached for the blade and pulled it out roughly. Lust gasped and curled in pain.

When she finally had the opportunity to absorb what she was seeing and hearing, her breath froze in her lungs. It couldn't be... Lust addressed him as Pride, so that... that meant...

_How could this be possible?_

One of the Seven Deadly Sins was for all practical purposes running the country of Amestris! All the wars that had taken place since he had taken power, and Ishval... And the other military officer at his side, a woman with long brown hair, that had to be Colonel Douglass. The other one she didn't immediately recognize. Lust, the bastard! He _knew_! The officer laid low, her turmoil kept private and silent.

Lust's wounds healed quickly and he was on his feet the moment he was able. But by this time, Pride and his two companions had already stepped back and placed some distance between themselves and the younger. It was then that Lust's eyes locked to the marble beneath him.

"Alchemy array..."

"You should feel honored, brat. Mother made this just for you," Envy's gravelly voice issued from the third unknown military personnel. He nodded upward to a high balcony. Lust followed the gesture just in time to see an elderly woman turn away and disappear from view.

There was no way she could make a move in this situation. Tactically, she was at a severe disadvantage. Bullets would hardly slow them down, and she had other promises to keep. Hawkeye had failed to save Roy, leaving her sole purpose for living only to bring his murderer to justice. If she died now, she could never achieve that goal. So for now the officer laid low, waiting and watching for an opportunity. Whatever was about to happen, however, looked grim.

Before Lust could chase, or even run, a light came from the floor beneath his feet and even the ceiling directly above him. He staggered back a step, his arms curled around his waist with a pained groan. His strength left him and the Sin fell to his knees. His body rocked and curled forward, gasping for breath before heaving and choking up a handful of red, solid matter. The source of his power, the red stones, were being forced from him.

A hand moved up to cover her mouth, cringing. It was painful to watch, but she did not dare look away.

The light began to fade and the last of the strength left his body. The Sin fell to his side in a rather undignified heap upon the floor. Once the area was safely dimmed from the light of the array, Pride stepped forward with a smug smirk upon his features.

"Maybe you'll learn now."

But Lust wasn't one to just take this without a retort. He smirked to the elder. "You're just a... pawn in this game... I'll bet... she rejected you... for other uses first."

The Fuhrer's blade whipped out faster than her eyes could follow and stabbed Lust through the stomach again.

_What an idiot! Shut up, Lust!_ Hawkeye's body twitched to see him pierced through, images of Mustang flashing through her mind. But it wasn't him, it was Lust being hurt. That knowledge didn't bring her any comfort, however.

That hurt him so much more than before he had lost the stones. Lust's body arched against the blade, eyes clenching shut but refusing to scream. Both hands clasped the blade in a futile effort to halt its progress.

"Pride!" The third of the group, Envy, eventually spoke up. "Watch it. You're going to kill him and she won't like that. She's not done with him yet."

Lust fought through the pain, eyes opening to glare at the older. But his eyes widened, his vision seeing something else. "You... it was... you..." he rasped through trembling lips.

"Don't interfere, Envy. I'm handling this."

It was too late once he realized that Lust had already burned mostly through the blade. The younger rolled to the side and the metal snapped. Not wasting a moment, both hands were placed to the floor and he began to burn and claw his way through. The material beneath him collapsed and Lust disappeared into the darkness.

Hawkeye jumped up and turned into the corridor, keeping low and running as silently as possible. A short way back... _yes, there!_ A hallway, and at the end she had spied a staircase. Once she had turned into the hallway, she stood up straight and ran down the stairs, taking two or three at a time. It was dark and hard to see where she was going, but the light from the floor above would illuminate the floor below enough to see him- hopefully. _Did he stop on this floor?_ Her boots skidded as she grabbed the corner of the wall and ran down the corridor directly below the one she had just passed through.

She spied him from the glow from above, but made her way to him in a roundabout way, avoiding the beam of light. It wouldn't buy him much time, but the fall had stalled the ones above from causing any more damage. Having rolled out of the direct light, Lust kept himself hidden as he tried to get up. Before he knew it she was by his side, hand on his shoulder and inspecting his injury.

"You idiot," she said barely above a whisper. "Just... can you walk?" The blonde officer was livid that he had kept such secrets from her, and he would get it from her, but it had to wait. Right now she had to get him to safety.

By then, he should have been fully healed, or at least healing, but no. The wound was still open and actively bleeding. Lust wouldn't show his concern or how badly it hurt, merely flashing her a confident smirk. "Yeah... I think."

Eying him critically, she doubted it. Something had to be done about the bleeding though. Even if they were followed or not, she did not want to leave an obvious trail.

"We have to do something about the bleeding." Hawkeye slipped her overcoat off and stretched the arms out, twirling the body of the coat around itself until it was fairly thick, then tied the arms around his waist tightly. "Hold that there as best you can. Now, let's get out of here."

He felt worse by the minute, his body cold and weak. An arm pressed to the coat obediently.

"Riza..."

"Yeah, yeah, you're in deep, and not just with your friends up there," she glared. From the look of the wound, if she assisted him with his arm around her shoulders, the wound get rip open more and he might not make it to safety. "Lust, you have to get on my back. You know what a piggy-back is right? Just climb up on my back and grasp me around my shoulders, leaning on me. I'll hang onto your legs." Her hands grasped the air by her hips as if holding imaginary legs, showing him. She turned her back to him and took a knee, not giving him a choice.

"You can't... carry me."

Hawkeye looked over her shoulder and glared at him, a look she frequently gave Mustang when he got ornery. "Get. On. Lust. You _will_ get on, if I have to hurt you worse to make you."

Lust chuckled lightly at the tone of her voice and shook his head. Stepping forward, he placed a hand upon her back to move into position.

Hawkeye grabbed his left thigh and lifted him up before shifting her weight and grabbing his right thigh. With the bulk of her coat bunched up against her back, she could only hope it had stayed in place enough to serve its purpose. The Sins may have senses humans did not have, but she could sense his weakness and pain without any special abilities. "Lust... are you going to be alright?"

Both arms moved around her, holding on and definitely placing his hands in a compromising position. But he placed himself against her, his chest to her back. After a long pause he finally whispered a reply. "I'll be fine... it'll take more than this.."

Hiking him up as gently as she could, she began to make her way out of the building. She could tell he was lying and didn't know what she would be able to do to help, but the most important thing right now was to get him out.

"Yeah, fine, just hang on. I'll take you somewhere safe." Again skirting the light from above, Hawkeye made her way back to the corridor, intending to find another route out to avoid being caught by the others above.

"And Lust- those are not reins."

**AN: Sorry for the wait, I had a setback in health. Doing a bit better, though! *Vash love & peace sign* Reviews are love!**


	7. Revelation: Part 3

**Disclaimer: You know I don't own FMA, because I'd never think of a dust bunny swallowing god. Seriously, it would never cross my mind.**

**Revelation: Part 3**

Lust playfully squeezed despite her warning, but his hands did pull away and settle loosely around her shoulders. "They were just... so convenient." That smirk was still in his voice. Even injured, Lust was still Lust.

Hawkeye only gave a light grunt at the pressure, too cautious to vocalize now that she was winding her way through the halls back to the exit. At each intersection and turn, she paused to listen for any signs of pursuit. There was no sign of chase at all. "I don't think they're looking for you," she whispered.

"Mmnn... Probably waiting... for me to die..." His voice then became more serious as his face pressed to the back of her neck. "Riza... I don't have... any stones in me. I can't heal."

Her head shifted to peer at all she could see of him from that angle, a messy spray of short black hair from the corner of her eye. "No stones..." The officer tensed and moved more quickly up the dark stairwell. "Why would they want to kill you? You're one of them, their own kind. Think they gave up on erasing your mind?"

"I'm... I'm not one... of their merry band... I refuse to follow... So... they kill me... wait for a new... Lust... different face."

The grip around his thighs tightened in the process of hitching him up higher on her back. The exit was just ahead, she knew that from memory if not by sight due to the increasing darkness as they ascended up from the depths of the strange church. "Without stones... with that injury..."

She ducked low through the secret entrance and carried him faster through the open night air towards the only familiar safe place she knew, her own home. The metal door squeaked to a close behind her.

He was growing weaker, his grip loosening upon her. "If... if I can... get at least one... in time... maybe it will..."

"I don't have any stones, Lust," she hissed. It wasn't anger directed at him, but the anxiety of losing him. "Men search for the stones their whole lives without grasping one! If you know where I can get one then tell me."

"An... apartment... seven streets west..."

"You're telling me that the legendary Philosopher's Stone the Elrics have been searching for all these years was just a few blocks away from my own home?"

"No... just an incomplete... red stone... Gluttony made..."

"If you're taking me to a hooker's apartment, I swear I'll let you die," she growled, turning immediately at the next block to head directly west.

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. That sound brought her a tiny offering of solace. Dying men didn't often laugh at jokes, did they?

The calendar dictated that true winter was still a few good weeks away, but its grand entourage of delicately frosted car windows, flat and fallen leaves trapped in frozen puddles on the walks and gutters, and billows of misty breaths from anyone bold enough to step outside to meet the bitter cold were in firm attendance. The silent rows of apartment flats stretching as far as she could see in every direction trailed up lazy wisps of thin white from countless chimneys, each a hearth keeping a home warm and comfortable.

The vast chasm that gaped between the two figures hurriedly trudging down the darkest side of the streets and the sleeping inhabitants of the city could not be justified by just the few inches of brick and concrete walls that separated them.

The man on her back didn't shiver the entire time, not even once.

"Which building is it?"

One hand released her shoulder long enough to point to one of the smaller buildings. "Top... floor... 421."

"The condemned building?"

"Home... sweet home."

Of course it had to be a top floor with such a heavy weight on her back. Lust was more than her own body weight by at least fifty pounds, probably more. Taking a few deep breaths without slowing down, Hawkeye took the stairs as fast as she could. A wet warmth had by now spread through to her back, his blood soaking both her overcoat and uniform jacket. The difference from that heat and the chill of the night only made a more glacial shiver snake up her spine and curl around her insides.

"Hang on, we're almost there," she panted softly.

At this hour, tenants would be awakened with irritation at any noise. Thankfully there weren't too many tenants actually in the condemned building. It was mostly abandoned save for a few squatters who knew enough to not question other people's business. The door to the desired apartment was thankfully unlocked and the door could be nudged open easily. Lust apparently didn't fear being found there, a bit of his cockiness that needed to be dealt with. The 'home' was sparely furnished, the living area dominated by a rather well-worn couch lining the wall opposite the door.

Once at the top and safely inside the apartment, Hawkeye paused in the main room to catch her breath. The exertion made her legs shake and nearly buckle under her, but she wasn't a novice to hard work.

"Where is it?" she gasped.

"...bedroom... dresser..."

The officer made her way to the bedroom with heavy steps, kneeling down and leaning backwards enough to gently deposit Lust on the threadbare twin bed. She paused only a moment to gently straighten out his legs before heading to the dresser and flinging open the drawers in search.

"...ngh..." Lust immediately laid back upon the bed. The one arm holding the field dressing glistened in a solid coat of bright red while the other rested heavily over his eyes.

In the empty middle drawer laid a small velvet bag. Her hand closed around the small bag and withdrew it, its tiny singular content quickly deposited into her open palm.

"Got it," she breathed with relief. The blonde perched on the edge of his bed and offered the single stone to his lips. "I hope all you need is one."

Parting his lips, he took the single stone into his mouth and swallowed it whole. He couldn't seem to help the soft moan that escaped with the taste of the stone. Almost immediately his muscles began to ease.

The human cost for the creation of each stone is something the Lieutenant would never be able to ignore or become callous to, but there was no other option to keep Lust alive at that point. The pleasure he took in his meal was hard to ignore, but she did her best, untying the coat from around his waist and peeling away the fabric to reveal his wound.

"How long will it take?" she asked anxiously, eying his injury. It would be fatal to a human, and without those stones he was little more than that right now.

Lust remained still for a few moments, but a soft groan soon sounded and he rolled his head on the old pillow towards her. "...don't know... haven't been... this way before."

"Stay still." With that instruction, Hawkeye rose and left the room, checking around the door for any drops of blood that may have led the other homunculi to this location, but found none within the apartment. The front door securely shut and locked behind her, she moved into the kitchen. "Are there any towels here?" she called out to him.

"Some- somewhere... " he answered groggily. "Maybe in there..."

Wherever "there" was. A groan sounded from the kitchen, the Lieutenant only finding a couple thin towels in a cupboard. Homunculus or human, men were similar all over. It may be a home, but it was lacking in all the basic niceties found in one. A quick stop in the bathroom produced a few much more useful bath towels. Once again at Lust's bedside, the woman pressed a towel to his wound.

He refused to lie still, shifting his shoulders and rolling his head on the pillow with a wince. "Riza... I..."

The tense line of her jaw and sharp eyes belied the fact that for all her harsh words, Hawkeye was worried. "What is it?"

Lust opened his eyes to meet hers with intensity. "Riza... I know... who... killed him..."

Hawkeye's eyes widened. "You do?" Her grip readjusted over the sword wound, the towel getting slippery with blood.

He nodded once before his eyes slid shut, his chest rising and falling with very slow breaths. His body needed to heal so badly and it was taking needed energy to speak.

Her teeth clenched together in anxiety. The truth was so close, yet could slip away so easily. "Rest, Lust. It can wait." It pained her to say it, but the man was so near death. Images of the fallen and cold Mustang laying so still on the floor of his empty office flashed unbidden in her mind. Hawkeye closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_This looked just like..._

"This... is just like... that night..." He swallowed before letting his lips part again. "Pride... did it."

"Pride," she repeated hollowly. "Who you didn't tell me was the Fuhrer. Whom I worked with every day. The man who killed Roy..." Halfway through the sentence her voice lost its strength, the end only coming out in a whisper as she sat further back. The pressure on his stomach never lessened at least.

"I... didn't know... he did it..." Lust clenched his eyes but relaxed again in his groggy haze. "And if you knew about him... if he knew... you knew..."

"You were trying to protect me."

That would explain why the Fuhrer kept her so busy, and transferred her directly to his office. To keep her under his thumb and off the murder case. Hawkeye just shook her head, staring blankly at the reddened towel she held in her hands through the fringe of her bangs. "Just stay quiet now, save your strength."

But her words fell on deaf ears. His eyes were closed and his body limp against her touch.

"Lust?" she asked, barely above a whisper. Again, louder, pressing into the wound enough to cause a pain response. "Lust?"

_No, not now, not again!_

Lust's form remained still with no response from the new pressure.

Covered with the bloody towel, the injury wasn't immediately visible. It crossed her mind to check, however, the towel being useless now anyway. She tossed the sodden thing away and leaned in to inspect the stab wound, picking up another towel. Upon closer investigation, the injury was actually healing with agonizing slowness. He must have passed out, his respirations so weak it barely lifted his chest. She exhaled her held breath heavily, covering the wound again. No need to attempt to stop bleeding any more, but it would prevent a bigger mess. "Lust, you fool," she sighed with relief.

Life associated with a Sin was never dull, always providing plenty of drama. It was exhausting. Hawkeye sat on the edge of the bed holding the towel in place, bowing her head low over his body. At least he was still warm, the only obvious sign of life he still showed. It was quiet. Lust was healing and for now they were safe in his squalid home. She let out a long breath and looked around the dingy room. For all the disrepair of a condemned building long overdue for structural and electrical renovations, it had such a mundane, quotidian atmosphere to it that it seemed the dangers of just a short while ago were a thousand miles behind them. Using a clean corner of the towel, she wiped her hands of his blood as much as she was able until all that was left was a pink tint to her skin. Moving gradually in an effort to keep him as still as possible, she leaned over and laid by his side facing him. The hush and stillness of the room laid over her tired body like a heavy blanket. Finally she could allow her eyes to drift closed and lightly doze. Just for a while. Then they could plan their next move when he woke.

The front door burst open in a shower of splinters around the doorjamb.

Hawkeye bolted upright in the bed, eyes wide and staring at the loud and sudden noise. It was too late to make plans, too late to run or hide. She grabbed at Lust's arm and shook it violently while pulling out her firearm with her free hand.

"Lust, now is not the time to sleep," she said tightly. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was on her feet and aiming the barrel at the doorway. Lust remained as insensible to the world as before.

Pride stepped around the corner and showed no surprise at seeing Hawkeye with the Mustang look-a-like. Standing in the doorway, he smiled with his usual confident facade.

"Well, Lieutenant, seems you found the man I've been tracking."

Too late for pretenses, too late for anything now. "It seems we both have, Fuhrer Bradley, sir." The gun didn't lower or tremble in her hands, her eyes aiming directly down the sights of the weapon to the dead center of his chest.

His exposed eye narrowed. "Lower your weapon, Lieutenant. I'm here for him. I'm taking that... creature from here and making sure he's no longer roaming the streets."

"These days you can't trust anyone, sir. Creatures like him can look like anyone, their bodies metamorphosing into exactly like who they want to look like." A warning, an incentive, and a way out. If he would just play along with the bluff this time. Such insubordination and outright rebellion could be blamed on mistaken identity.

His eye narrowed. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, I am ordering you to step aside."

Thinking fast, Hawkeye retorted, "You can't be the real Fuhrer. No driver, no bodyguards, you're alone. And there's no way you could have found us so easily. No, you have to be just like him. You must be the one called Envy. I've seen how well you can disguise yourself, so copying someone as powerful and recognizable as the Fuhrer should be easy for you."

What was really important to Roy and Maes? Was it for her to solve their murders and bring their killers to justice, or was it to live on in whatever safety this world could offer, or would they say one thing and yet expect her to do as she always did, protect another in her own sense of justice and right?

Pride sighed softly, but then smirked. "I am the Fuhrer, and if you won't move out of the way, I'll be forced make you. Perhaps they'd like to meet the one who has been keeping him from us."

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed, resembling even more her raptor namesake. "If you're not going to pretend then nor am I." As she had silently promised the fallen men, her gun did not waver, nor did her resolve. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, the sights trained on the Fuhrer's forehead. "I'm not going to let you take him from me. Especially not twice." The shot exploded from the weapon, the sound shattering the quiet of the room.

The Sins were fast, but a bullet was one of the few things that was faster. The bullet struck his forehead, Bradley not even attempting to dodge. His head snapped back with the force, bending back at a sharp angle. An odd and disturbing sight that caused a slight twist in her stomach while his body remained standing for a few moments, but he finally looked up again, his flesh squirming around the wound as it pushed the metal from the hole in the process of instant healing. "So you finally learned the truth."

_Dammit, he recovered so much faster than Lust had._ Hawkeye kept her composure, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing fear. "Disappointed, after all your efforts to keep me off the trail?" She stole a glance to the still form of Lust on the bed beside her for only for a second before snapping back to her superior. "Did you kill Maes Hughes as well?"

Pride smirked as he reached and brushed the bit of blood from his forehead. "I didn't have that pleasure. That was someone else, though I do know who." He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the blonde. "Now, enough of this." Drawing his sword from its sheath, he took a step forward into the room and let the tip drag along the floor, the cheap carpeting slitting open smoothly before he aimed the weapon at her. "I tried to keep it from you as long as I could, but," he sighed regretfully. "I knew you'd learn eventually."

Reaching around back to withdraw her other weapon, Hawkeye looked to the still form of a black-haired man on the bed. "Nice knowing you, Lust," she murmured. It surprised her how peaceful she felt about her own impending death. She looked away to face his murderer stoically. Though she now had the truth, justice would not be possible any longer. This wasn't a matter for human courts anyhow. Both barrels pointed at the homunculus, she took a step forward and pulled the triggers in rapid succession, one after the other.

Pride's single visible eye narrowed as he shifted fast to avoid a few bullets but taking a good number of them to both shoulders and arms. "Trying to go out just like Mustang did?" he scoffed. "I'll be glad to send you to him."

With a sudden lunge he swung forward, the blade only narrowly dodged by simultaneously ducking low and weaving toward the wall at her left, feeling a rough tug on her arm but nothing more. The rain of bullets didn't stop, but instead of hitting his head and arms which seemed to have little effect of slowing him down, she shot his blade arm and kneecaps like she had done with Lust in the very beginning. Ducking a another slice aimed for her throat, she darted under his arm and rolled to Pride's back. Her inhuman opponent spun in place, the various bullet holes blossoming a deep red color in his flesh but promptly healing closed after ejecting the bullets.

The Lieutenant slowly rose to her feet, the guns silent in her hands. Each round had been counted; all fourteen had been emptied into Pride. He smirked confidently and drew his blade sideways, his expression now deadly serious. There would be no time given to reload.

Reluctant but without options, Hawkeye lowered the weapons and glared boldly into the man's single eye. "Fine. See you in hell, bastard."

"Send my regards to Mustang." The blade flashed in the light from the bedside lamp and seemed to disappear as it sliced through the air to her exposed neck.

A heavy blow knocked the wind out of her, but it wasn't from a slice from the blade. The force that struck her was heavy, large, and solid, bringing with it a sudden ripping pain from her upper right arm. She was forced off her feet and backward through the apartment until she flew through the far living room window, a hand at the back of her head to protect her from the shattering glass that completely deafened her ears. Her eyes went wide as she sailed backwards, watching Pride's surprised and displeased face grow more distant until it was blocked by the rising wall. She fell backward through the air to the ground four stories below, but the hard impact that would mean instant death never came. The man holding her took most of the rough landing himself, staggering a few steps before stumbling to the ground on one knee.

Once they hit the ground, Hawkeye threw her arm over her face to protect herself from the glass that rained down on them. Gulping desperately for air to fill her lungs again, she tried to roll over, pushing the arms off from around her. "What... Lust..."

Still in the crouch, the Sin placed her gently upon the concrete sidewalk. He didn't answer her yet but his gaze traveled upwards to the now broken window. Pride peered down at them, his anger obvious even from that distance. The noise had attracted the attention of other tenants both in the condemned building and the other homes along the street. Windows lit up and shades were pulled open to see sudden the commotion. A couple doors opened and more bold neighbors stepped out to settle whatever trouble dared show up on their block. Pride frowned and turned away from the window.

"Come on."

Even if Lust was ready to escape, Hawkeye needed some time to recover before she could move. She looked him up and down, seeming fine after nearly dying just a few minutes ago. That wasn't the hardest part of getting her legs to move, however. Just a moment ago she had been fully accepted her own death, had a goal to go down fighting, but now... Now she would be targeted by the very military she had served her entire adult life. The officer lay frozen and gasping for breath on the glass-strewn concrete, still staring at Lust in complete shock.

Standing, he gently patted her upon the cheek before pulling her up forcefully to her feet. "We need to go now."

She blinked at the patting, shaking her head as if clearing the cobwebs. The gesture worked. Her boots crunched glass under her feet as she regained her footing and shakily began to follow.

"W-where?" Hawkeye glanced over her shoulder to the window they had just crashed through but found it empty. "Where can I go now? He knows I know, and he'll have me arrested and executed. I can't go home again now, can I." It wasn't a question, but a statement made in a wavering voice.

He sighed and wrapped a securing arm around her torso to hold her upright, firmly escorting her away and forcing her dragging boots to move. "No, you can't... I'm sorry."

Hawkeye had somehow managed to keep her grasp on at least one of her empty guns, which she slipped securely into its holster and was now checking her pockets with her left arm to see how much money she had on hand. "I... I need to call Havoc," she sighed, doing her best to hurry her steps. "I need to talk to him before Bradley sends out any announcements. We need to find a phone." At least her brain was starting to move forward from its complete shuttering stop.

"There's a pay phone on the corner a couple blocks ahead." His alert eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of the others, and ushered the woman from the speculation of prying neighborhood eyes. The night was still enough for Lust to be able to hear anyone approaching.

Once they reached it, she slipped into the booth and cupped the phone between her right ear and shoulder and slipped a coin in. Her right arm was sluggish for some reason. Once again she was grateful that Mustang had insisted that all his staff have phones installed in their homes. The phone on the other end rang and rang, but the blonde was willing to wait as long as it took.

"Come on, Jean, pick up!" After two more rings, the man finally answered.

"Hello?" came a particularly grumpy and sleepy voice.

"Havoc, this is Hawkeye. Listen, something happened. I know who killed the General... and I know why both he and Hughes were murdered. I need your help."

On the other end of the line, Havoc shook his head and ran a hand over his face, the sound temporarily muffling his voice. "Wait, what? Lieutenant? Where... Of course, what do you need?"

Lust pressed his back to the booth, constantly scanning the street for the slightest hint of life. She glanced through the glass to Lust keeping watch. There was no way she was going to leave Lust behind; she had just given up her entire life in an attempt to protect him. What she wanted, what they needed, she had no answers.

"I'm going to be on the run for a while, indefinitely. The ones responsible for their deaths are after me now, I know too much. I need you to be my eyes and ears in the military for a few days. I know you're leaving soon to Lior, but I'll find a way to get in contact with you. We can't use this line again."

Havoc focused hard on every word Hawkeye said despite having been abruptly awakened in the middle of the night. "Right, but Hawkeye, what's going on? Who's after you?"

"I can't tell you that yet, Jean." The blonde woman stared hard at the phone cradle in front of her, a hand on its side for support. If he knew the truth, he would be a target as well. "I will tell you this: don't trust anyone, especially in the military."

"Don't trust anyone? Is someone after you?"

Catching sight of her own reflection in the opposite glass, Hawkeye spotted a swath of black spreading down her arm from her shoulder. Squinting her eyes in an attempt to identify it, she leaned in a bit closer then twisted her shoulder around to look at it.

"What...?"

"Hawkeye?"

Switching the handset to the other side of her head and raising her shoulder to hold it in place, she grasped her uniform sleeve and tugged it, her fingers coming away slick. Holding her fingers up to the light cast by the nearby street lamp, the pale fingers were revealed to be coated in crimson. She quickly looked at the sleeve again, eyes following the trail of black all the way down to the end of her sleeve... and a few drops on the floor of the booth. She had left a blood trail.

"Oh _shit_!" she hissed. "Havoc, I have to go. Keep your head down, and don't show that you know anything. Please be careful. Oh, and take Hayate to the Hughes family for me." The receiver was slammed back into the cradle in the middle of his protests. In her mind's eye she could see him staring in consternation at the dead phone in his hand.

The booth door slammed open and Hawkeye rushed out while pressing her hand over her darkening sleeve. "Lust, I've left a blood trail right to this phone booth. They'll know I called someone. We need to stop the bleeding."

_When had this happened?_ Just barely she remembered a tug when Bradley had sliced at her with his sword... then the ripping sensation when Lust had tackled her through the apartment to their escape from the window. In the process of the flight from certain death, the deltoid muscle had torn deeply through her arm.

Lust cursed under his breath and quickly moved to her side. "I hadn't noticed... I thought it was my blood." Fingers of one hand clawing, he tore through the fabric of the cloth and pulled the sleeve down to reveal the wound. "Dammit... and I can't burn it closed like he could."

"I'm lucky to have gotten away with only this," she answered, holding her arm out to him for inspection. "I don't think I lost much blood. It needs to be treated, though." She sighed, looking to his own strained face and fighting another engulfing wave of despair that threatened to drown her.

"What are we going to do? Havoc can let me know when the military sends out a warrant for my arrest, but..."

He shook his head. The jacket already ripped, he tore the sleeve off completely and wrapped the cloth at the wound and slightly above to slow the bleeding. "Don't focus on that. Unless this phone was already bugged by them, they can't trace the call to another private residence. I've never worked with anything like that, but I see the information from... you know. But this will probably put the warrant into effect faster."

"I got so close, and now... I don't know how to fix this." Adrenaline was rapidly draining from her body; the short few moments she had been able to rest her eyes before this latest adventure had only deepened the exhaustion. "I hope you know of a good hiding place somewhere nearby. I can't go very far," she said in a soft voice.

"I do." Lust spoke up after a moment of thought. There was no attempt to reply to him, so he lifted his eyes to meet hers after tying the sleeve securely over her arm. Never had he ever seen such hopelessness and despair written in every feature on her face before. The closest he could remember was when she had thought Mustang had been murdered by Lust and had given up the will to live, but now there was no passion left to even die.

He pressed both hands firmly to her cheeks and held her eyes. "Riza, we'll fix this."

More walking, but she would make it; failing was not an option. With her uninjured arm, she cupped a hand to the back of his neck and pulled his head close, pressing her forehead to his. "We're just two. But I'll do my best."

Lust gave her a small smile before reaching up and touching her cheek. "We'll both do our best. We'll both make it. I swear I'll protect you, Riza."

Her eyes closed at the touch, taking the brief moment of comfort he could offer. The grip on his neck tightened, her head nodding once. "Let's go."

Central always was built like a maze, or even a rabbit's warren. Upper-class neighborhoods pressed close to slums and squalor, all tangled up in roads that twisted and disappeared almost randomly into alleys and dead ends. It was through these streets that ended in a near labyrinth of alleyways that Lust escorted Hawkeye to the dim basement hidden under a small pawn shop. They descended into the darkened stair behind the building almost an hour after they had escaped Lust's temporary home. By this point the sniper was leaning heavily on Lust for support. He was forced to rest her against the rickety wood railing to close the basement doors while he drew the heavy gage chain through the large bolts on the doors and clamped the padlock closed.

"Are you okay, Riza?" he asked as he gently collected her from the rail and helped her down the steps.

"I just need to sleep," she murmured, eyes already at half-mast. "Just show me to a comfortable spot and I'll be out like a light."

"I will. Hang on a little longer."

Lust led her deeper within the small basement, taking her to the back wall lined with old crates and a stack of dusty blankets. Guiding her down to the concrete floor with her back to the wall, he took a few blankets to the other side of the room and shook them out hard before stacking them on top of the others for a makeshift bed. Folding a blanket over a few times made a rudimentary pillow for her head. His arms reached around and lifted her with great care to slip her into the 'fresh' bedding.

Now that every drop of adrenaline had burned away, her sliced arm hurt terribly. She kept it close to her side and winced with the slightest movement, groaning softly.

"Rest here, I'll go call for help," he whispered, brushing her bangs from her forehead.

"No," she said quickly, reaching out with her left arm to grasp his coat sleeve. "Don't leave me."

He hesitated and brushed his thumb over her flushed cheek. "Alright, Riza. I won't leave you just yet."

Hawkeye laid back into the pillow, losing the fight to keep her eyes open. "I thought I lost you. Then I thought I would never see another sunrise. The two loses didn't feel much different, actually."

"I knew you were in danger. You woke me up faster." Lust laid out beside her, taking care to not disturb the bed much.

"Mmm." Her head rolled into his shoulder, nuzzling against the leather of his coat. "Are you okay? You were hurt so badly."

He did his best to wrap an arm around her, resting his head against hers. "Don't worry. Just time. Besides, I'm sure I can get hold of more stones from Greed."

"Good," she murmured. "We need more bullets, and at least a sewing kit for my arm, and some food and water..."

"Riza, relax, I'll take care of everything. Just rest." Cuddling closer, he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

She was already asleep, probably drifted off as soon as she had finished speaking. Her breaths came deep and even, resting as comfortably as her aching body could allow. The physical, mental, and emotional strain the sniper secretary had endured that day and night would ensure she slept a long time if allowed.

Lust smiled lightly as he watched her sleep, his eyes roving over her face at this closeness. Her warm breath flowed over his own lips like a ghostly kiss he yearned to indulge in, but restrained himself to let her rest. His arm held her secure to his side while his free hand tenderly caressed her cheek in adoring captivation. What a shame she was unconscious to it all.

**AN: Here ends Revelation, marking our halfway point through this saga. Up next, Intermission: a few vignettes of little nothings that mean... everything.**

**Curses. Don't have four open documents and download Scorch. You WILL crash your documents and lose an entire day's work of your fanfic, even if it autosaves.**

**Much love and honor to mebh for her support for this fic. Be sure to check out her current work Quiet Crown, which has me captivated and at the edge of my seat. Excellence.**

**If you want an update... you must review!**


	8. Intermission

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA, but it may own me.**

_**Intermission**_

"All I have is morphine and colloidal silver. Same as you could get on the battlefield. I can sew her up, but there's a high risk of infection. The muscle damage is so deep, she may never regain the full use of her arm."

"Please... try."

"_I think it's a wonderful dream."_

"_Is it all right to believe in a future where everyone can live in happiness?"_

"Hold still, this is going to hurt."

"Hang on, Riza. Just a little more, it'll be over soon."

Firm hands held to her arm and shoulder, but it really wasn't necessary. Only her head tossed on the thin cushion, her blonde hair plastered to her forehead with the damp of sweat. Her closed eyes only occasionally winced with the pain she felt from a great distance of time and space.

"_Why did it turn out this way?"_

"_Don't forget. Don't forget. They won't forget you either."_

A cool damp cloth dabbed over her face and neck, the small relief a gentle comfort through the feverish pain. The burning. The aching.

"_I am a powerless human. Because of that, I need your help in order to protect everything."_

"_Live, and let's change this country for the better."_

"It's not over, Riza. Don't give up, there's still hope. We'll make it. We can fix this, together."

She drifted through the haze of infection and morphine from one lifetime to another seamlessly. It was all real. Strong arms embraced her; low, rumbling words of encouragement stroked the shell of her ear.

"_Never give up the will to live!"_

"_... be more firm than this."_

"_... if we could lure them out and finish them all at once..."_

"_Yes."_

And always, those same, strong arms held her as resolutely as they ever did.

* * *

"_Do I seem different to you?"_

"_Should you, Major Mustang?"_

_He sighed and tugged at the fingertips of his gloves without removing them, avoiding her eyes._

"_Yes, I should. You should see me differently now."_

_The tin canteen clinked in her hands as she readjusted her grip on the the thin wire handles. The morning fire snapped and popped loudly once between them before quieting back down to a steady, glowing warmth. Desert nights and mornings were always bitterly cold and the white cloaks and boot covers did little to help ward against the chill._

"_How do you want me to see you then, Major?"_

_He lifted his gaze veiled by his wild fringe of bangs to meet hers. "The Hawk's Eyes" would see right through him, he knew. The pained lines that laced his eyes, the tight set of his jaw, the shoulders that no longer had that proud, straight bearing to them. He continued to tug and twist at the tips of his gloves._

"_You should be afraid of my hands. They're hands of death now. Everyone fears them."_

"I'm not afraid of your hands," she murmured softly. A feminine fingertip traced the length of his bare fingertip, following the soft curve of flesh until it hardened and lengthened into compressed, adamantine claws. She was talking in her sleep again, a habit he knew from the memory of another man. By this same memory he knew she was the most open and unrestrained during these moments.

"Why not? They're hands of pure destruction." His gloveless hand curled around hers, their two hands loosely clasped over his bare chest.

"They have to power to protect those important to you. You have what you want... the ability to make a change."

"What... am I supposed to change?"

The woman sighed mildly in light sleep. "Peaceful nights... and days without fear."

He stared at the ceiling of the small basement in contemplative silence, a clawed finger delicately caressing the back of her hand.

* * *

He was watching her again. She could feel his eyes on her though her own were closed. Most of the time it was as if he were looking through her, as if her image were a window into another life only he could see.

"What do you see when you look at me?" she murmured drowsily. Only then did she pry her eyes open to spy him.

Lust was leaned back against the stack of dusty wood crates, his leather coat discarded in the corner by her bed. Against the black of his pants and the darkened wood of the crates, his skin had an almost alabaster glow in contrast. Not even a scar marred his flesh from his last meeting with Pride's sword. Both arms hung loosely over his bent knees. The question seemed to startle him from his mental wanderings. He blinked and focused more clear eyes upon her.

"I've been hearing something, actually. A tune with lyrics that have been coming... back... to me the past few days."

"A song? What song is it?" she asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her one good hand.

He cleared his throat and sat forward, rolling his neck and shoulders with a discomfort that had nothing to do with his previous slumped posture. Lowering his eyes to the floor in front of him, he took a deep, slow breath, and let it out in a soft sigh. He began to sing in a sweet, rolling, dulcet voice.

"Deep in my heart I hold for you,

A tender thought, so sweet and true,

Nobody knows but this little rose,

I give you.

I give my love sweetheart to you,

Hid in a rose, so safe, secure,

Trusting you'll know,

For ever and aye,

'Twill endure.

Dear little rose, with your heart of gold,

Dear little rose, may your petals fold,

My secret sweet I will trust you to keep,

Deep in your heart 'twill repose.

No one will know what your leaves conceal,

No one will guess what they could reveal,

You will know then, that I love you dear,

When you look in the heart of a rose."

_They were alone in the office that day, one of those rare, quiet mornings when there was no rush and bustle. He was standing with his back to her, facing the bright daylight streaming in from the large bay window behind his desk with a file folded open in one hand and sipping sedately from his cup of coffee in the next. She was leaned over her notebook on the desk to make the needed schedule rearrangements to fit in a last minute alchemist interview for later that afternoon. At first she didn't catch the first few notes he hummed, but the smooth, musical tune quickly grabbed her notice and she lifted her head. He acted as if he didn't notice he had her attention and continued on with his song, the volume raising until he was sure she would hear it and recognize the melody. _

_The song was one they had danced to last weekend at the military ball. They shared only one dance that night between all the obligatory hobnobbing and flattering of important military personnel and well-connected ladies, but it was a dance that was just for them. The world melted away when he took her hand and he had eyes only for her, looking neither left nor right to share a compliment with a passing statesman or military widow as he did every dance with any other. The only two people on that dance floor were Mustang and Hawkeye and nothing and no one else mattered. Their feet glided with their usual practiced and trained grace, but he held her more securely in his hands than any other dancer and never once looked away from her face, nor was his smile more genuine, relaxed, and warm. It was all for no one but her. _

_Just for her._

_It was a short song, entirely too short, and he was forced to guide her by the hand to the refreshment table long before they had their satisfaction. He did not give her over to another. From the centerpiece of the table, he plucked a budding pink rose and handed it to her with a bright intensity in his eyes, conveying his true, silent message to her._

_When he had finished humming, he half-turned to look over his shoulder at her with a confident little smirk. Once he held her eyes, he nodded pointedly to her desk. She looked down but saw nothing. Glancing up, he nodded again, the corner of his mouth turning up in growing humor. She looked down again, then reached for the handle of her top drawer and pulled it open. Laying there in secret rested a pink budded rose._

The song had transported her away to another time and place, but even though the two worlds could not be more different, it was the same song, the same voice, and the same poignant emotion. Though it wasn't the same man, that song cast an equal warm glow over her, so familiar and enchanting. When he finally looked up to her to search for hopeful approval, he found it all and more. The woman on the bed smiled gently to him, for him.

Just for him.

**AN: The first vignette includes direct quotes from the manga. The song is a popular tune from 1918 called "When You Look in the Heart of a Rose."  
**

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	9. Preparation: Part 1

**Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, the ending would not require a razor. For heaven's sake, Bones...**

**Preparation: Part 1**

The bar wasn't exactly high class, but it wasn't the lowest dive in Dublith, either. A small live band played a slow jazz tune from the low stage in the corner of the room, setting a somber atmosphere that suited this particular crowd well. A haze of smoke hung throughout the room, sustained by a few tendrils of white smoke trailing up from a few scattered tables. Only one lit cigarette rested in an ashtray on the bar, placed in front of a raven-haired woman in a very short black skirt and black belted jacket that draped around a silver low-cut blouse. Sharply-pointed silver high heels tapped the metal foot rest bar in time with the slow beat of the music. Her attire was sufficiently scandalous to suggest she could be a "lady of the evening", to put it politely, and her comely shape and long exposed legs supported the idea. A slender hand reached for the cigarette and brought it to her deep red lips to draw on the filter, the tip briefly flaring brighter.

The outfit had been procured by Lust, the Sin insisting that it drew the eye away from her face to focus on other assets that would be less recognizable.

Hawkeye refused to speak to him for an hour.

The well-disguised Riza Hawkeye tapped the ash from her cigarette into the tray and took a sip from the cocktail by her hand, the butt dangling from between her fingers. Not a smoker herself, she had developed an immunity to the stuff from her association with the addict Jean Havoc. Pointedly ignoring the stares of all the men in the bar, she stared into her drink silently.

"Wow. I never expected-"

"Don't say a word, Loa." Hawkeye stabbed out the cigarette more firmly than needed into the tray.

Behind her, the hulking bovine chimera raised his hands in surrender, trying to look innocent yet not able to resist a smirk at the same time. "I'll be good, I promise."

Hawkeye ran her fingers through her black hair, wearing it down and free. She withdrew a few cenz and tossed them on the counter, pushing herself off the barstool and standing next to the man with an air of reluctance. "Let's just get going," she muttered unhappily.

Loa offered an elbow and after a moment's hesitation, she grasped his giant arm with her left hand, playing the part of arm candy. "I'm stealing whatever clothing Martel has," she murmured to him softly as he opened the door for her and led her out. "This will be the death of me in this cold."

Loa's white, wispy mutton chops twitched in repressed humor. "Lust will be disappointed."

"When I asked for fresh clothes, I assumed he had enough sense to know what clothing meant," she huffed.

He glanced at her right arm as they made their way deeper into a shadier part of the city, closer to the Devil's Nest. "Your arm must be healing well to be out of the sling now."

Hawkeye fisted her right hand and bent and lifted her arm in a careful and slow rotation at the shoulder. The bandage over the wound shifted yet held its place with the movement, remaining invisible under the black jacket. "I still can't do much with it, but I am so much better than when you saw me a few weeks ago. Martel performed a medical miracle."

"Nearly cut to the bone, you were lucky," he grunted, guiding her down a narrow and dimly lit side street.

"Luck isn't so exhausting." Hawkeye eyed the few people that lurked- yes, lurked, there was no better word for the shifty-eyed men standing against the walls for support and women standing about as scantily clad as she- along the way. "I'm glad they sent you to take me to the Nest." The sharp clip of her high heels echoing down the street sounded too attention-grabbing to her ears, but that was probably a projection of her own discomfort in the detested outfit.

"Mmmm. I'm not the only one. You are too wanted." About halfway down the street, he abruptly stopped in place. Hawkeye looked up at him curiously, but he continued to face forward, seeming to be waiting for something. Before she could open her mouth to ask, a woman appeared before them, landing as light as a feather from her jump from a roof above.

"No one followed you," she reported, hand on her hip. Now that she was up close to Hawkeye, the snake chimera looked her up and down with a smirk. The former blonde rolled her eyes up to the night sky and sighed softly, as if asking some greater power for strength.

Perhaps to spare the woman more discomfort, Loa started off again towards their destination. In a matter of minutes, the trio walked down the steep steps into the underground bar.

The girls had been sent home early and the Devil's Nest cleared out so the information could be exchanged in confidentiality. Greed leaned back in one of the leather couches, feet propped up on the table in front of him. Hearing the door open then close, the relatively old Sin turned his face enough to catch the movement out of the corner of his eye, his free hand coming to push his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Well, it's about time," he greeted with a smirk, his words holding a double meaning.

Silver heels clicked down the few steps into the interior of the Nest, Hawkeye visually investigating every detail of the room. The only occupants were herself, the most trusted chimera, and Greed. Loa and Martel took spots along the wall while Dorochet sprawled out on a chair to Greed's left with a leg dangling over the arm, out of the way yet maintaining a presence. The cloaked form of Bido sat up at the bar, sipping from what appeared to be a Long Island iced tea. Without waiting for an invitation, Hawkeye took a seat on a broad red leather chair in front of the Sin, crossing her legs neatly at the ankle.

The homunculus' shark-like grin was a bit disconcerting, but he seemed... normal... enough.

Hawkeye spoke first. "Good evening, Greed. Have you heard from Lust recently?"

Greed's smirk fell a bit and the small shake of his head was her answer. "I figure the bitch'll keep him on a short leash for a while. If he comes, he comes," he shrugged nonchalantly. "This was the date you planned on."

But not one to keep the 'down' façade, the smirk returned and a tattooed hand removed his glasses to reveal sharp violet eyes. "He'll have to prove himself trustworthy and she's twisted enough to come up with some kind of favors he has to perform to be back in her oh so wonderful graces."

"Favors," she sighed softly. Perhaps he would be ordered to kill someone. Espionage work frequently called for sacrifices, but there was no way to tell how that would affect Lust. "Let's hope he can endure it. His job is harder than mine. That is, if they didn't kill him the moment they laid eyes on him. But I won't think about that."

"Good idea. So! Can I offer you a drink?" And it was back to business as usual with a grin.

She shook her head. "No, thank you. I'll be asking for a lot from you soon enough." Hawkeye took a breath and plowed on ahead, holding the homunculus' gaze steadily. "Greed, I hope you've given my proposition a lot of thought. There are a lot of risks involved, but the results should be entirely beneficial to you, to be rid of Dante and all the other Sins. If you have decided to go ahead with this, I have a list of supplies I'll need that I know only you could get for me."

"Oh I've thought about it many times. Thought about how much you're really asking of me." The glasses were set upon the table and Greed reclined further in his seat, arms resting along the back of the couch. "I'm a greedy bastard, have a lot of things here that are mine and mine alone." He watched her every motion for some kind of reaction. "But the way I see it, even if I gave you all these things and you fail, it's no skin off my back. No one knows of my involvement, and I gain either way an entertaining event or Dante and her puppets demise."

A small knot of tension released around her heart. Something was going right. "Thank you, Greed. I wish I could say I could repay you, but even if this works out I'm not going to be in a good place with the world. I can't even guarantee you protection. I won't be in the military any longer."

Dorochet couldn't hold back a short, barking laugh at that, head rolling back on the chair and back up to sneer at her. "We are very familiar with the ways of the military. Even if you get rid of Pride, it's still filled the the same people."

Hawkeye nodded gravely. "You're right. I'm hoping the civilian government has enough sense to put in a good system of checks and balances, but humans are humans and there will always be corruption anywhere, no matter how high the ideals of the people or government."

_That's what I'm trying to do now. Provide a check to bring out a balance this __country has never seen before.'_That was Mustang's life goal, and now it seemed Hawkeye had inherited it, albeit unwillingly.

"As I explained before, it's not going to be as simple as killing Pride. Most of my work will be in encouraging the people to establish a democratic civilian government and replace the defunct parliament. What's really holding them back is fear of the repressive regime. Once General Grumman has taken control, he will allow the citizens to-"

"Wait, why do you trust him? Once he has power, what's to stop him from simply keeping it?" Martel interrupted from her stationed place by the exit.

"He's my grandfather," Hawkeye answered candidly, facing her. "I met with him a week ago and received his agreement. He could have turned me in then but didn't. Also, he's well aware he'll be the next famous assassination if he betrays the people."

"Lust will kill him," Martel snorted.

"Probably, and I wouldn't stop him, or anyone else from doing so." Hawkeye looked unwavering in her startling declaration.

"So tell me, Riza," Everyone was on a first name basis with Greed, so he was the same with everyone else. "What exactly do you need?"

Hawkeye slid a hand inside her jacket and pulled out a folded slip of paper, sliding it over the surface of the table toward the homunculus. "The first on the list is a printing press, one hundred pounds of ink, printing plates, and five hundred reams of paper. Second, I have a list of names of democratic party leaders and speakers, as well as the very few parliament members who have been against the martial law since it was imposed. They need to be contacted and encouraged to start on formal town hall meetings to prepare for a regime change. We'll need the Fuhrer's schedule for the next upcoming months, including his family and Colonel Douglas. I also need food, water, clothing, and hygiene supplies to last about a month in winter, some larger caliber weapons, ammo, maps of Central, including a topographical map, a layout of Dante's home, a map of the underground city... and volunteers to fight the other homunculi."

Her gaze shifted to the ex-military members in the room, settling on Greed in the end, feeling tense. The last request was the most delicate. If he joined in the battle himself, that was something that could affect him directly. He would get injured, or worse, and to someone like Greed, that may be too much of a risk.

Before he was turned off the daunting idea completely, she reviewed the plan in person. It would be more convincing than the letter she had sent along with Martel and Loa when they left the pawn shop basement.

"We'll start with a public propaganda movement. That's where the printing press comes in. All anti-martial law propaganda and literature have been banned as an act of terrorism, so no democratic leaders are free to distribute information or organize town hall meetings. If we went right into removing Pride, and if by chance my grandfather does not actually manage to take control, this nation would not be in a position to hold a steady defense against the hostile nations surrounding it and still manage to keep peace within. There'd be no chance of the government returning to the control of the people. Amestris itself may completely collapse. We can't just help Dante destroy us all.

"The propaganda machine can start spreading the feeling and desire for change. The Christmas holiday coming up soon will help, it's a time we all want to feel safe and have 'peace on earth'.

"In the meantime, Lust will be gathering information from the other homunculi and Dante about their plan of attack. He'll look into the human remains of the others as well. I'll go out in search of them and gather them as best I can once I get that intel. If there's any way I can throw a wrench in the works of their goals to make more death, war, and stones, I'll pass along the right information to the right people to slow down these efforts as much as possible. Maybe the Fuhrer has the power to create firestorms of civil unrest with the right triggers, but there has to be a way to slow things down. Somehow.

"Then we will strike at the right time with an attack force to remove Dante and the homunculi threat. We'll throw in everything we have at once, this will be our one chance. It's all or nothing.

"It will take some time before we're ready to spring our trap. I'm going to be doing a lot of traveling, so I could use some money as well. My bank accounts have been frozen by the government." Hawkeye was doing everything in her power not to show anxiety. If she, of all people, did not show confidence in this plan, then there was no reason anyone else would either.

With growing curiosity, Greed took the paper and thumbed it open even as she listed off everything that was needed. "You sure don't ask for a lot, do you?" The smug look the older Sin constantly wore seemed even more prominent now that his help was needed. The paper was folded again and held loosely between two fingers of his free hand. The decision would be signaled by how he treated that very important list and he had yet to make up his mind.

"There is one other thing, something that could perhaps make this so much easier." Riza paused, eyes locked onto Greed's sunglasses. "What can you tell me about Dante's unrequited love, one Van Hohenheim of Light?"

"You come here asking for supplies, money, men, and now information."

The woman nodded gravely. She was in no position to request anything, much less the extremely difficult to acquire list of demands. "I understand it's a lot. There's no way I can get those things myself, or though any other person. I come to you because I feel you are capable of producing a miracle." She paused, thinking of how to word this next thought. "Like I said before, it would greatly benefit you and your men. I don't see any way I can repay you for what you've done, but I'll do my best. Lust and I will be in your debt."

"Hohemheim of Light, that's a name I'll never forget. She cursed the bastard on a regular basis. Apparently he dropped her without warning. Can't say I blame him, but I doubt you're here for a history of Dante's fucked up love life." There was a bit more anger in those words that Greed normally allowed. Somehow, the topic struck a nerve. The rapidly melting ice clinked in the glass as the Sin poured himself another drink, emptying the nearby narrow flask into the glass. Finishing, he sat comfortably in his seat once more, feet propped upon the table he had just used.

"He hasn't been around in a while, but he's still out there. He's a powerful alchemist who is probably the only one who can take Dante step for step. The sons may have a shot, but they don't know her like he does. Now." He paused for effect, eyebrow lofting and grin broadening. "If you want to contact him, I'm sure we could work out something." Almost playfully, he slipped the paper behind his ear before bringing his drink to his lips.

"If you could get in contact with Hohenheim in time, it would no doubt ensure our success. Even if we can't succeed in getting rid of all the other homunculi, they'll be far less dangerous without a leader."

Martel spoke up from the spot of wall by the door she had taken position against, leaning back casually against the aging paint with her arms folded and legs crossed at the ankle. "It still sounds like the best and most solid plan yet to getting rid of all the bastards," she growled. "I for one am willing to throw myself into the thick of it." The other chimera in the room nodded and voiced unanimous agreement. The desire to get revenge for the betrayal they suffered was enough motivation; saving Amestris was secondary. "If Greed agrees, we'll all join in," she finished.

Shrugging his shoulders, Greed settled a bit more comfortably in his seat. He was enjoying this talk due to the fact that Hawkeye was stroking his ego quite nicely. "Miracles, huh? Either you've heard more about me or you're just desperate and will say what it takes to butter me up." There was an chuckle in his voice, his amusement apparent.

The Sin took the paper from its resting place and opened it again, eying the list and giving in to his mental debate. When the silence stretched out a bit too long for comfort, he folded it again and held it between his first two fingers, lifting his arm to give it to the nearest chimera beside him. "Take this and get started. This sounds like too much fun to pass up." His smirk then turned to Hawkeye. "I just have to make sure I'm there to see her face when she falls."

The small lines of tension around her mouth and eyes relaxed and disappeared within seconds of hearing his final judgment, her shoulders relaxing with a soft exhale of relief at the same time. She smiled, an unguarded, genuine smile. "Thank you Greed. Thank you so much."

The dog chimera that had accepted the list from Greed's hand passed through the door Martel was guarding, bent over the paper with knitted brows and muttering complaints to himself of how hard this was going to be, slamming the door a bit harder than necessary behind him. Martel undulated her spine to push off the wall and gestured for the false midnight-haired woman to follow her. "C'mon," she smirked. "Let's get you into something more comfortable."

"Gladly." Hawkeye jumped up and turned to follow her.

The door to the back corridor opened before Martel had even touched the knob. Hawkeye's eyes widened to witness Lust stepping through the doorway, a hand slipped casually into a pants pocket and a sly smile upon his face.

"Heeey, I was hoping I'd get to see that outfit again before you rushed to change."

He was alive. The breath caught in her throat and all she could do was stare at him in shock.

"I made sure to lock your sewer route door, Greed. I heard wet weather's coming soon and I didn't think you'd appreciate a flood making its way through the cracks in the seal. By the way... why in the hell did you have to put the door _there_? That line empties from the entire street."

The older homunculus just shrugged, appearing as if he had been expecting him all along. "Humans wouldn't look there and it was the easiest place to work with in the time we had." He eyed the Lieutenant appreciatively. "I'll admit, Lust, you do have a nice taste in clothing. A shame to hide all that."

"You look now, but keep your hands on your own girls, Greed. _This_ one's mine." Lust didn't hide the fact that his gaze moved up and down along her form as he stepped closer, stopping inches directly in front of her. "I prefer the blonde hair, though. But, sadly, couldn't keep it. The disguise had to be believable. So, what did I miss?"

The shock dropped away to make way for ecstatic relief and she lifted on her toes to press a surprise kiss on his warm, dry lips. When she stepped away, she took a moment to really look at him and smile. The stress he had to have been enduring didn't show in his eyes, and that warmed her heart.

Hawkeye looked over her shoulder to the older homunculus still lounging on the couch. "Greed agreed to provide all the materials we'll need to pull this off. You two catch up, I'll be back soon." The woman slipped away before Lust could protest.

Lust greatly enjoyed the kiss but sighed dramatically with the loss of the outfit He let his violet eyes watch her exit in its entirety. "Very, very nice." Of course he made sure to speak just loud enough where she could hear him. Once she was gone, the Sin plopped down into the seat across from Greed that Hawkeye had abandoned, making himself comfortable as well.

"So, you agreed. I thought you would." He grinned and grabbed the other's drink the moment it was lowered to the table again.

Greed twitched briefly then simpered with small shrug of his shoulders, the white fur lining of his vest brushing his jawline. "You knew I'd want a chance to see her fall after everything she did to me. She deserves to rot for it all. I provide the materials and some of the required people while you work on the inside. Must say that I think you got the ass end of this job. I'll gladly work behind the scenes until the moment the trap springs. Bait yourself all you want, kiss their feet, just don't let them pull you in. Even if you try to keep your own thoughts and values, they'll still try to drag you into their way of thinking and- dammit, Lust! Don't drink all of it unless you plan on fixing me another!"

Lust finished the last bit purposefully, eyes open and cut to the twitching features of his brother. "Don't worry." He spoke after lowering the glass and remaining ice. "I'll do it, I'll do it. Your drink tastes like shit anyway." He stood before another comment could be made and jumped over the bar by Bido, intending to make his own drink.

Hawkeye noticed Martel had a smooth, curvy way of walking that actually resembled the slither of a snake and wondered how she moved before the special ops soldier was dragged into a laboratory. Her thoughts were interrupted when the chimera abruptly turned into a room on the left of the concrete and metal corridor. She stopped before following her in, since at a glance she knew it was Martel's private room. In no way did it appear feminine or decorated, but the discarded bra on the cot made a clear message. Added to that, a propaganda poster of the Fuhrer on the wall had half a dozen survival knives embedded into it and two crates were stacked against it, one open and displaying an arsenal of firearms. A heavily armed woman; definitely Martel's room.

Martel bent over a footlocker and rifled through it, tossing rejected garments aside. After all she had been through, wrinkly clothes meant nothing. Soon she rose with a pair of military camouflage cargo pants and a tan PT shirt, giving them a single hard shake to ease a few of the wrinkles. "Here, you can have these," she said, laying them out on the bed. "What size shoe?"

"Eight."

The chimera was already on her belly and sliding boxes aside under the bed. One slid out and stopped neat Hawkeye's feet. "Eight and a half," she announced. In one motion the other woman rolled to her back and flung her legs up, using the momentum to fling herself to her feet. Standing arms akimbo, she smiled to the Lieutenant. "It'll have to do until we can steal you all the things you need. I'll find a field jacket for you from one of the storerooms before you go."

Hawkeye scooped up the box and gave the other blonde a grateful smile. "And you save me yet again. I'll forever be in your debt, Martel. Thank you."

Fully dressed in the borrowed clothes, Hawkeye entered the bar feeling much more like herself. The boots fit just fine for being half a size too large and everything else felt very comfortable. The short sleeved shirt did expose the white bandage wrapped around her upper right arm, but as Loa had noted, she was moving with the injury quite well, considering. She shut the door behind her and slid into the roomy seat beside Lust with a pleased expression.

Lust's arm immediately slipped around her waist. Leaning closer, he nudged her cheek lightly with his nose until she turned her gaze to him, then extended the previous kiss they had shared. "Just make sure you save those clothes. We could use them later."

Greed rolled his eyes. "So I've heard of this relationship of yours. A human and a homunculus, who would have thought? Kind of odd, but whatever gets you off. But again, I still say she's hot, human or not."

Something had definitely changed about her. The man she had chosen to sacrifice her life for to push to the peak of success, whom she had served under many years, and with whom she had shared a deep and secret love, had been murdered. Soon after she had met his homunculus, and not too long following that tumultuous introduction had begun to have tender feelings for him. All too soon after that, she was nearly killed by her boss, the Fuhrer of the nation, and ever since had been a hunted woman. The life she had always known had ceased to exist.

With all her cares and priorities revolutionized, Riza Hawkeye was forced to face a new life with new eyes, or die along with her old world.

Instead of shying away, she returned his kiss without hurry or much self-consciousness. Simple comforts like these hadn't been possible for weeks. "In your dreams, Lust, and that had better be where it stays."

Purring softly, Lust turned to nuzzle into her cheek and press his lips against her soft flesh several times. "You don't know how much I've missed you." He whispered into her ear. "Being stuck in that house... there's really not much to look at, so I've had to use my imagination and that outfit was straight out of my dreams."

Greed sipped his drink to hide the soft growl, his eyes averting at the same time. "I may know where Hohenheim is, so I'll go myself instead of sending someone."

The woman closed her eyes softly and leaned into the affection, memorizing the feel of his lips and the vibration of his voice within his ribcage that moved into hers when he spoke. There was no telling when they could see each other or when she would ever experience things like this again, so every moment was grasped and held closely to her heart. Even his annoying lewdness. She didn't look up until Greed mentioned the name of Hohenhiem. "Do you? How soon can you find him?"

"Yeah. Given travel, maybe a week at most." He replied before finishing the rest of the liquid then eying the bottom of the glass as if it had committed some unspeakable offense. With a huff, the older Sin placed it upon the table with a small clank and forced himself to lean even further back in his seat. If he was trying to look relaxed, he was far from succeeding. "We have... links in the past, so to speak. I may know where he's hiding out. But if he's not there, it'll take longer."

She barely nodded, not wanting to hinder the affection Lust was showering upon her. "That will help with our narrow timetable. If we can get Colonel Douglas' schedule, we'll be better able to track the Bradley family and that would give us more room to maneuver."

He pulled back just enough to shake his head then rest his forehead against her cheek. Lust closed his eyes in thought. "I have another memory of her, Sloth, but they're not mine so they must be Mustang's. He... didn't know her either, but I see a... picture? With two small children. Maybe a file of some sort."

She shuddered. "Sloth. Douglas worked just as hard as any of us, but she didn't talk to anyone beyond what her profession demanded." She frowned and thought hard. "Homunculus... Someone who..." One could almost see the pieces falling into place in her mind as her eyes widened. "A woman... could it be the Elric brother's mother?"

Relaxing, Lust turned in his seat and leaned back, hands resting behind his head. He exhaled a breath and closed his eyes once more, trying to get a clearer image. "It'd make sense. They tried human transmutation and they didn't create me, Greed, Pride, and Envy's far too old. Gluttony... Dante spoke about trying something with the Gate... That leaves Sloth and Wrath..." He ticked the various names off on his fingers, tapping the back of his head to keep count.

She leaned back into the somewhat uncomfortable seat with him and laced her fingers over her belly, nodding as he marked each one. "And who is Wrath? If you can write down all you know about them so far, especially weaknesses and strengths, that would help match each Sin to someone that can counter that."

Lust nodded. "Wrath..." He spoke with a tone of exasperation. "He's the 'youngest' of the group. Older than me by actual age, but he's a kid in form. Annoying as hell and an angry little bastard... a given considering the name. Do you remember the woman who lived in the apartment beside us? She was only there for about two weeks, the one with the little yapping dog that tried to bite people on the ankles? That's Wrath. The dog, not the woman."

A small frown tugged the corners of her mouth, her eyes growing distant. "A child? There shouldn't be much threat from him, depending on what his ability happens to be. But that would mean a grieving mother or father..." She trailed off, her tone saddened. Somewhere out there was an alchemist parent that had lost his or her child, and Hawkeye and her allies would may likely have to kill what someone had had sacrificed to bring back; a child that would, in a sad and strange way, most likely have to die twice.

"Sorry... just not my field of... expertise." His statement faltered, focusing upon her and the sad story.

Greed finally broke in on that. "Talk to the Elric brats. They've had contact with him. They know more about him. We tried to grab the kid first, but Envy and Sloth snatched him up first." He shrugged, arms crossed over his chest and fingers tapping his bare upper arm.

Hawkeye shook herself from her empathetic reverie and took a breath, nodding to Greed. "They're impossible to track usually, more inconstant than the wind, so hopefully I still have a friend in the military that knows their general whereabouts to arrange a run-in. Maybe we can find Wrath's... or at least get more of an idea of what we're dealing with." Ignorance may be bliss in this case for the alchemist involved. It was likely she was allowing herself to be too emotional in these circumstances.

Turning back to Greed, "I've already met with a few military personnel and have their cooperation. You and your chimera friends have limited amnesty from just those few during the fight. When it's all over with, we can further discussions and see what we can work out. I-" Her eyes cut to Lust. "-didn't mention who Lust was, but I did say he was on our side. If it's at all possible, it may be best to avoid exposing you, even to our friends and allies."

Leaning in, he gave her a small smile as he placed a kiss upon her cheek. "I know, it's okay."

"So, we'll be able to move a bit more freely than we would normally. That'll help." Intrigued by this, he leaned forward and folded his arms to support him against his knees. "You may need to give me the names of some of these contacts, just so I know them."

The hand on his arm tightened, the former Lieutenant giving Lust a sympathetic look before once more focusing on Greed. It wasn't fair that he would have to hide for years to come because of his familiar face while his brother could possibly walk about the streets a free man.

"So far, Second Lieutenant Havoc, General Grumman, and Major Armstrong. More to come, but tell everyone to stay out of their way and be on their best behavior towards them if your paths should ever cross. While we may have a working agreement, old friends will trust each other more than new ones."

An arm was moved from its position then used to prop his chin. "Yeah, yeah... I'll be on my best behavior, don't worry about me. Worry about your little boy toy here who's in the middle of it all."

"Yes, but," she said in a quiet, light tone of voice. She lifted her face up to the man at her side and couldn't help but smile. "I'm not worried. He has a good head on his shoulders."

Lust's grip tightened on Hawkeye and another soft smile crossed his lips. "The fact that you trust me... after everything..." But the words fell away and he was unable to finish. Instead, he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"It's been a long train trip to get here and my arm is aching. Do you have a spare room were we can get some rest, Greed?"

Greed turned his head away, the constant lavish affection clearly beginning to really pull on his nerves. He cleared his throat and lifted a hand, pointing to the hidden hallway and obviously the rooms that lay beyond. "Yeah, just take your pick. You'll know which are already taken."

Taking their cue to leave, Hawkeye stood up from the chair with a hand outstretched to Lust.

"Thank you for everything. We'll get out of your hair now."

**AN: Reviews are love and produce faster updates! Don't forget to fave and sign up for author alerts! Check my profile for updates on my next major undertakings.  
**


	10. Preparation: Part 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, I'd be a lot richer, wouldn't I?**

**AN: Lime ahead. It was a nice little lemon, but I edited it to a very non-explicit T rating. If you still want to skip the light citrus, read the chapter until the little -X- symbol and skip all below it. **

**The inspiration song for the first part of this chapter is Believe by Yellowcard. The second part's inspiration is Greatest Day by Take That. Highly encourage a listen. Very sweet, both of them.**

**Preparation: Part 2**

Lust took her outstretched hand and let his thumb run along her fair skin affectionately. He slipped from his chair and stood beside her, hand never releasing its hold. "Thanks, Greed. We appreciate everything." He cast a quick glance to his brother before returning his gaze to Riza.

"Yeah, yeah." Greed waved it off before pushing the annoyed mien away and replacing it with a smug look. "I might have an attachment in this already, but you still owe me once this is all over." The elder Sin pointed to the younger.

She smiled to Lust. For the fact that he should be Roy Mustang's exact likeness in every way, he wore Roy's skin in a manner that was all his own. Roy always spoke volumes with his eyes alone, especially his passions. The rest of his presence was held in proper upright military form and carriage, the perfect statesman and soldier when he wanted to impress. Strong, imposing, even a formidable enemy when the time called upon it. But the man standing there now owned his body in a laid back, casual way, completely comfortable in his own skin as is without putting on a front. His hair always seemed more untamed, his posture always relaxed and at ease as if all was well with the world, and an inner vitality seemed to radiate from him at all times as if he would erupt into a fury of action or sensual amour at the first provocation. He personified a quiet intensity Riza never thought possible until she laid eyes on Lust. And eyes... those dusky lavender eyes always, always, promised an unforgettable night in bed; a constant, implicit promise.

Hand lightly grasping his, she led the way Greed indicated. The first few rooms were clearly claimed and filled with personal trappings, but she soon found one with nothing but a cot and stacked crates. That was good enough. Escorting him in, she closed the door and reached to engage the flimsy chain lock that would provide their only privacy.

While Riza's attention was on the door, Lust slipped behind her, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her back to his chest. "You're okay." He whispered close to the shell of her ear, relief obvious in his voice. "I was worried. I had no way of knowing how you were while I was in that damned house."

Her body leaned back heavily into his chest with a soft exhalation. She closed her eyes and smiled, sliding her hands over his arms around her middle until her fingers slipped between the spaces of his. "I felt so anxious when you left. Ever since then I haven't had a single restful night's sleep. I had no word from you, and I've never felt so utterly alone in my entire life."

He hated worrying her, but it warmed him in a way. Face pressing to her neck, he inhaled her scent then exhaled with a soft moan. "Mmmnn... Damn I've missed this. I feel like I can finally breathe again." His hands turned to fit better with the new grip and held hers tightly. "I can't die. Not until you're safe, so they won't take me out yet."

"Don't die at all. And don't let them take your memories of me, please. Run before that ever happens. The information doesn't matter, just run."

After a moment of thought, he nodded against her and began to tug her back, inching their two bodies to the cot. "Just because you ask it. If not for that, I don't think I could run away now."

"Why? I thought you hated it there." There was no resistance to his guiding. She moved with him to the cot without loosening her grip on his hands or losing any contact with his solid, warm, living, very real body.

"I do. I hate it as much as anyone can hate anything." Once close enough to the cot, he loosened his grip and sat down, pulling her to sit in his lap rather than beside him. "But I'm in even deeper than I was before. They'll never set me loose again if they had real reason to distrust me."

She turned to press her lips to his cheek in a hint of a kiss and answered softly, lips brushing lightly over his skin. "We'll do our best, but I can't do this without you. We're more useful alive than dead."

Lust didn't argue, he wanted to be as close to her as possible. He lowered himself to gently lay over her, arms encircling her waist as he guided her gently down into the thin mattress. "Mmnn... Much better."

A soft moan of contentment issued from her throat at the press and embrace of his arms. "Yes, much." She smiled gently. "You stayed with me, took care of me while I recovered from the injury."

Lust smiled and nuzzled into her chest, not hiding the fact that he was enjoying the position. "Of course I did." He tilted his face up to look upon her. "I wouldn't be anywhere else. I had to make sure you were alright." The Sin then pushed up and looked to her injured shoulder. "How is it, by the way?"

She glanced at the white bandages that wrapped her upper arm then back to the man laying on her, running her fingers through his thick, fine black hair with her left hand. "It's much better, but still aches if I move it much. It'll be virtually useless for a good while, but there's no sign of infection anymore. Martel did a wonderful job. Soon she'll be able to remove the threads from the muscle. How are you holding up living in that place?"

His expression changed from relieved to disgusted. "I'm fine so far, but I absolutely hate it. Envy tries to throw his weight around, Wrath is loud, Pride is obnoxiously... well... proud, and Gluttony is trying to claim me as his new Lust."

Her laughter bubbled up from her chest and rang out almost musically around them both, a welcome sound to both of them after everything. "Be careful around him!" she chuckled. "We know 'Lust' demands there be sex, and Gluttony was the old Lust's constant partner. He may be expecting those same attentions as before!"

His expression remained the same, but there was a definite twitch developing just above his left eye. "You're sick, you know that? I'll never be _that_ desperate."

The laughter rolled out afresh and she held him in a quick, apologetic hug. "So there's hope for you yet," she teased. But her expression quickly became more serious. "What are they saying about me? Will the Fuhrer lift the hunt anytime soon? Do they believe you that I've left the country?"

His expression fell and a soft sigh escaped his lips. "They mention you on a regular basis, but it's more to get under my skin and try to start a fight." Thinking on his days under that roof, his eyes narrowed. "Except Pride. He makes direct threats, saying how if he finds you, he'll-" Unable to finish the sentence, he shook his head and pressed his cheek to her chest once more.

"He was toying with me, I knew that. Like a cat playing with a mouse. I never stood a chance even before he got serious." The much darker, angry narrowing of her eyes went unseen by Lust distracted by his new pillow. The expression she wore now was more malignant than the hate and disgust she had met him with at that first night he introduced himself. "He even killed Roy, the Flame Alchemist, and knows who killed Maes. I'll make sure their murders are avenged, personally." As if remembering he was there, she again caressed Lust's hair. "With your help, finding his weakness."

He didn't need to see her face to know the anger was there, it was obvious in her voice. The Sin purred softly at her gentle touches, but once again looked upon her. "I know you want revenge for everything he's done, but once I have that information, don't go after him alone. You said it yourself that he was toying with you. If he knows you hold some kind of advantage, he'll try to take you out even faster."

"I know. I'll have to really prepare for this, and I know I'll need your help. Just let me make the killing blow. I need that, for their sakes. For my sake."

He nodded with little hesitation. "Stay as safe as you can for me and I'll do everything within my power to make sure you have that strike."

She smiled and stroked his back. "Thank you. I knew you'd understand. He took everything from me, and he even tried to take you from me."

"Of course I understand. I've been afraid for you all this time, known what kind of danger you were in." The last statement was spoken softer than the first, but he slipped his arms from around her and pressed them to the mattress, pulling himself up to eye level. "If he's gone, most of the threat goes with him."

Eye to eye, she gazed into his violet hues in wonderment. And a small flash of irritation. "You should have told me I was being kept under the enemy's thumb all this time."

Groaning softly, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the small pillow behind her head, placing them cheek to cheek. "I know, I know. I just... thought that if you knew, he'd find out somehow and you'd be seen as a bigger threat. He would have made it worse, then."

"We'll never know what would have happened... just don't keep anything else from me again, please." She turned her face to kiss the nearest bit of skin to her lips, his ear. "I shiver to think I made that man's tea every day and wished him well, and all this time he was the one to have killed Roy."

A muffled groan sounded from the pillow, the sound more of an apologetic whine. "I'm sorry." He then pulled himself back up and let his eyes lock with hers. "I really am."

She nodded. "I trust you."

A soft smile worked its way onto his features and he leaned closer. "And that means... everything to me." Closing the remaining distance, he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She held it, letting her lips move gently against his and getting a taste of him with a hesitant tongue sliding between his lips. A soft moan sounded between them and Lust's tongue moved to meet hers. He cupped her cheek and held her in place as he deepened the kiss. Her hand slid up from his leather-covered back to the exposed base of his neck, holding him close and accepting his roving tongue. His hand slipped from her cheek into the now dark strands of her hair and slowly lowered himself to rest upon her once more.

"Do you need some rest now, Lust?" she murmured, lowering her hands down to move over his coat again.

The homunculus shook his head, a smile upon his lips. "No, no I'm fine. I have you with me. Here... in the safest place we've been in a long time. I'm not going to sleep if that's what you mean. What about you? You came here directly from Central, didn't you?"

"I feel safest with you, too," she smiled. "And I'll be all right. Don't worry about me. I couldn't sleep just yet, either."

Leaning back in, he placed another kiss, but forced himself to make it short. "Mmmnn... I can easily become lost in that, you know." Sitting up, he began to work his arms out of the coat. "Let's get a bit more comfortable." The coat finally removed, he tossed it over the crates not too far away. Turning to the side of the cot, he turned just enough to expose his back to her as he bent to remove his boots.

Like every homunculus, Lust had red markings upon his flesh. A large circle about a hand's breath wide and filled in with the crimson color was upon the center of his back, one thin line intersecting it vertically with another intersecting horizontally. The two lines met in the middle of the circle, the point where they crossed flesh colored and visible against the red background. A bigger, much thinner circle surrounded the solid one, a few inches of pale flesh separating the two. The two lines extended in all four directions in a perfect cross, the top ending in a smaller, solid circle on the back of his neck, both horizontal ends extending to his sides and ending in a similar fashion, and the last hidden by the leather pants that clung low to his hips.

The woman's eyes slowly widened. With her good arm, she pushed herself up to a sitting position to get a closer look, touching his back with her injured arm. "Lust," she breathed. "Your back..."

He tensed at her touch, only partially up from finishing his task. Slowly, he straightened and turned his head just enough to catch her out of the corner of his eye. "My... back?" Something about the tone of her voice sent a shiver along his spine and he didn't dare move from his position until he understood what was happening.

Delicate fingers traced the thin lines, then ran over the larger circles that dominated the center of his back. "Crosshairs... You have crosshairs on your back," she said in soft awe. She had seen enough to know exactly what she was looking at.

"Crosshairs?" Lust questioned, curiosity lacing his tone. He blinked after a moment when realization struck him. "Oh! You mean the markings on my back. I've only seen it through mirrors."

"Yes," she answered softly, hypnotized by the brilliant clarity and perfection of the marking. Her fingers continued to follow the lines, even all the way up to the base of his neck. She had seen part of these markings but never had any idea what was actually hidden behind his coat. "I... wonder if it's actually possible..." Caressing the flat of her palm over the whole of the crosshairs, she nodded to herself. "I understand. It can't simply be a coincidence," she said under her breath.

Her touch sent a pleasurable shiver along his spine, but he was too confused to focus upon that feeling. "Riza... I... don't understand. Every homunculus has those red markings somewhere on their body. Given, mine is different than most, but I just thought that was because _I_ was different."

"You are different," she agreed, letting her hand move to hold his shoulder. Taking a breath to organize her thoughts, she attempted to explain. "Roy and I had an agreement, you remember. I would watch his back and protect him, but he also had me promise that if he should ever step from the right path, I was to shoot him in the back. It _can't_ be a coincidence that you have this exact marking on your back like this. I think it's a message from Roy."

Lust was struck dumb. He gaze slowly moved forward to stare blankly across the room. "A message from... Roy. I'm not sure what to think of that." A few moments of quiet stretched between them before he spoke again. "Is it because of how I was created? Am I even more him than... myself? If that makes any sense."

She squeezed his shoulder supportively. "No. If anything it would prove that he has no continual influence over you. But with what Envy said, maybe he had a part in your transmutation other than just giving his mind. If he was right, Roy was actually required to be there personally. I think we need to find out more about your creator and the conditions of your transmutation. If you have both Roy's mind and this symbol... If it _is _from Roy, then I think it's a gesture of trust."

Lust nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should. I was angry about the situation... but... I am curious about the details. I really don't remember the woman at all and- Trust?" Thinking back on what she said about Mustang's back, he nodded once before turning to face her. "I understand how the situation was between you two and considering that 'Mother' is trying to make sure I'm on her side, I see how it applies here, but you believe Mustang himself put the marking there?"

"It seems far-fetched, I know, but this is unusual and incredibly exact. If he did have a hand in it, then I think it means... It means he entrusts you to me, and me to you... and the legacy of his dream. He probably knew I wouldn't let it go so easily. Not after all we've already sacrificed." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I never wanted this role and have no idea if I can actually pull off an entire coup, but for him, to make his sacrifice worthwhile, I have to try."

"So you think that he approves of this? Of us?"

She shook her head lightly with a tiny smile, lifting to him soft eyes. "I doubt he could ever guess where this journey has taken us. But with as well as I know him, I know he'd want me, and you, happy. And not alone."

The Sin's gaze grew distant and he made a soft sound in agreement. "Yeah, I can see that. Actually, I know that. As much as you protected him, he watched out for you, wanting you safe and happy." Chuckling softly, he lofted an eyebrow teasingly and cut his eyes towards her. "He put that above his own safety a lot, didn't he?"

"He did his best to look over my safety, but it was my job to protect him. As for happiness... it was something he hoped for and worked for us to enjoy in the future. Even though we didn't hold out much hope for ourselves. In the future we wanted to build for the next generation, we expected to be executed for our war crimes in Ishval."

A shudder visibly shook his form. "I've... seen too much of that, so you don't have to go into detail. But... now the situation's changed and we don't have to worry about a public execution for war crimes, just..." He quickly shook his head. "Never mind. Let's not focus on that."

She rubbed his arm affectionately. "Yes. Let's forget about it all for now. All I care about is spending some time with you. I don't remember when I last felt this at peace."

Relieved by that, Lust turned and slipped an arm around her waist, effectively pulling her closer. "It's a rare event now, so we shouldn't waste it."

She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his bare torso. "Not a moment."

**-X-**

Both hands gently moved along her back, rubbing small circles before sliding up her spine. His head tilted just enough to press his cheek against her crown.

Closing her eyes, she released a long breath and nuzzled his shoulder warmly.

Keeping her tightly within his grasp, Lust inched closer to her, a soft moan escaping his lips. "Mmnn... Riza." He kissed the top of her head then slid a hand up to cup her cheek, pulling her just enough so their lips brushed feather-light against one another, a teasing sensation. She inhaled his familiar scent that was uniquely his- and Roy's- and lifted her face to press more firmly to him, tongue slipping out to run over his smooth lips.

His grip tightened around her, fingers gently kneading her back through the thin material of her top. At the same time, a hand moved through her darkened locks before settling on the back of her neck to hold her in place.

A tiny little moan sounded in her throat with his touch, the hand closest to his chest sliding over his firm, sculpted muscles. Her lips worked against his, tongue slipping into his opened mouth to explore and caress his wet muscle.

The soft moans that were restrained between them grew louder. "Riza..." He purred against her lips, one hand settling upon her knee and slowly, very slowly sliding upwards and gathering her thighs to pull her hips into his lap.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, pressing them tightly together. After so long, exercising such restraint and patience through the long recovery from her injury and forced separation, there was nothing standing between them now. "Lust," she gasped breathlessly against his lips.

The feeling her hips pressed to his sent a wonderful shiver along his body. His head tilted backwards a few degrees, lips parted in a pleasurable purr. Not able to help himself, both hands moved to grip her hips, holding her smaller frame in place as his own hips rolled upwards against hers.

"Ohhhh..." she moaned, rolling her head back on her neck. One hand cupped the back of his neck, caressing in small circles while the other rubbed up and down his back.

"Riza..." He swallowed thickly then licked his lips, lidded eyes locking upon her. "If... you don't want this to happen..."

"Wrong time to turn prude," she muttered, pressing herself flush to his bare chest. Her lips moved against his shoulder when she spoke.

The homunculus laughed and eagerly pressed his lips to her neck, hungrily tasting her flesh as their bodies moved together. "Mmmnn... I want this... something much deeper than what my nature dictates."

"As I want and need you," she said softly, tilting her head to the side to allow his lips free range over her skin.

His actions sped, lips once more upon her neck. She automatically began to lean back invitingly, lifting her hands to bury in his tousled black hair, growing more breathless the more intimate his affections became.

He was driven forward by the delicious little sounds she was making while breathing. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

"Help me out of this," she said impatiently.

Without a word he slipped both hands under her shirt and slowly peeled it off, taking special care around her bandaged arm. After casting it to the floor, he groaned and rolled his hands over her lacy black brassiere-covered chest, then slipped gently behind her back to unlatch and slowly pull it around the damaged shoulder first, then toss it away without concern. Those things were nothing but useless barriers, anyway. Gift wrapping, if anything.

He knew how badly Roy wanted to christen the Fuhrer's desk with her his very first night in power. He knew how she would mewl and writhe in pleasure when he took her against the wall in the office. He knew how bold and even experimental she could get in the comfort and privacy of her own bed, unlike Roy's bed where she still held some reserve. All these things he knew, but he didn't want to go by memory, not by the memory of another man. Riza was his, entrusted to him now, and she would always be his. She was not borrowed, not stolen away from any man. He didn't want to trace familiar curves, he wanted to discover them for himself.

Nimble fingers unfastened her pants and hooked into the waist to pull both them and the waistband of her black panties down. His naturally narrowed Xing eyes softened to see the part of her he had only been able to dream of up to this point. She lifted her hips to assist and he worked them down, pressing his lips to her bare belly, then hip, then thigh. Her boots and socks were quick to go.

"What a waste, you could have stayed in that outfit and you'd be naked under me already, Riza. There were advantages to it..."

"Just catch up."

The much too tight leather pants peeled away (he went commando, naturally) and disappeared to somewhere else in the room. Instantly he was seated over her. She was trying to keep quiet, which he found even more exciting. He groaned and nibbled and sucked into the curve of her neck and she moaned deeper in response. Her good arm held him close to her, craving his warmth and contact. The other trailed her fingertips down his side to illicit a harsh shiver down his entire body. He could feel the small callouses on the tips of her trigger fingers, thicker on the right. Her hand continued lower and grazed over the Oroborus seated on his hip. He gasped hard, rolling his head back and clenching his eyes. She stopped in surprise.

"No... it's okay," he assured her in a breathless voice. He opened his eyes and laughed softly, resting his forehead to hers lightly. "It's the most sensitive part of me. Your touch is electrifying."

A brow arched up. That was interesting. To test it, she caressed over the tattoo again with her fingertips. Lust groaned and rolled his hips harshly into hers, driven on in a fresh wave of intense, uncontrolled desire.

"Wow..." she breathed. "That's nice, but... slower. This time. Use that one later." Her hand moved away and settled over his hip.

"Later," he agreed with a smile. What a beautiful promise.

This was nothing like those other women. Now he understood completely what Riza had taught him that day by the stream. Lust alone had nothing to do with love, it was only a single intimate aspect of the greatest pleasure of all.

"Riza... I love you so much. I know this above anything else."

"I love you, Lust... so much." She kissed him deeply and he began a slow rhythm, the two completely entwined together.

It was gentle and yet not lacking in appetite in the slightest. Both moved and rolled into each other as one, the lines between the two separate individuals disappearing completely to create a new and complete One.

"Ohhh... wait... what if I..."

"No... Homunculi can't reproduce," he mumbled against her ear.

"Thank goodness... with your drive... _litters_."

He laughed and kissed her smiling lips.

Her eyes... could be burgundy, could be wine, or simply blood-stained hazel. In the right light, even auburn. They were always warm and expressive, and oh how he loved how they looked at him now. Riza Hawkeye was a woman of quiet, burning passions she was always true to, and now she burned for him alone. He knew it. Yes, he knew she still loved Roy, but he was fine with that, actually. It meant she loved forever.

"_Wouldn't you rather have Roy Mustang than me? I know you miss him."_

"_Love does not die with the beloved, Lust. I'll always miss him. But that doesn't mean I'm incapable of ever loving again."_

"Lust... I..."

"Yes, yes..."

Lust settled himself heavily over her as they both slowly unwound after completion, panting for breath with a sheen of sweat glistening over their fair flesh. Her legs slowly relaxed from around his hips, only her left arm able to rest on his back. He rested his head on the pillow beside her, watching her through half-closed lids and not even attempting to withdraw. She turned to rest her forehead to his, eyes gradually closing with the wonderful release.

"I love you," she murmured heavily.

"I love you, Riza."

His arms embraced her securely to him until and even long after they fell sound asleep.

**AN: I provided a link to an unedited version of this chapter hosted on LJ on my profile after discovering FanFction does not allow links in messages. It's an extra page and a half of text and does provide more interesting character development. All content is tasteful and respectful, no crude language. If you do see the other version, let me know what you think between the two, please!  
**

**There is now Lust!Roy fanart inspired by this fanfic! Link can be found in my profile (since links aren't allowed in the chapter either?). Don't miss it, you'll love it. Comment and fave**!** It's amazing! Thank you, Dog! I'm glad I can finally reveal this fanart now that Lust's markings are ultimately revealed in this chapter.**

**Much thanks and appreciation to my helpful and faithful reviewers, who really do provide inspiration for the next chapters! You have no idea what you've helped me create. *wink***


	11. Preparation: Part 3

**AN: I am writing about winter in the sweltering heat of a triple digit August summer. Now THIS is what I call a creative stretch. **

***bows many times * So sorry for the lateness of this update. But I can see now, albeit from one eye. :D or rather .D**

**Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, there'd be more Havoc x (Rebecca) Catalina.**

**Preparation: Part 3**

One advantage to hiding during winter was that everyone was already bundled up in disguise. Even if anyone was at all recognizable through all the layers of sweaters, coats, gloves, hats, and scarves, it was just too damn cold to bother looking about to other bundled-up faces and share greetings.

Only in the shopping districts were people cheerily greeting each other and offering smiles. Storefront window displays were ablaze with tiny electrical bulbs of red, blue, white, and green, attracting passers-by to admire the miniature trains, villages, and toy makers. In every scene were miniature people joyfully giving and accepting exquisitely wrapped presents. This, to encourage the holiday cheer of the season that would guilt passers-by into buying a little something or two for some dear friend or neighbor or boss that may be comparing one's gift against another's. So it was that shoppers could be found even though the weather strongly encouraged curling in front of a snapping and flickering fire at home with a cozy blanket and well-worn book. No, pleasing others or rather, securing one's comfortable future relations with family, friends, and co-workers takes priority. Heaven forbid Aunt Doris feel snubbed. That would make the upcoming holiday party _very_ awkward.

The two fugitives, human and homunculus, made a single trip to one of the smaller market streets to purchase more warm clothing which they changed into a couple blocks away. Lust was of course extremely disappointed to be forced to wear so much clothing, insisting that he really didn't mind the cold so much, but Hawkeye was adamant that he was _not_ going to strut about the streets in the dead of winter half naked. Besides, did he not understand the concept of hiding?

He settled down once he realized he could walk arm-in-arm out in the open with the woman he loved as if they were actually a normal couple taking a casual stroll through the neighborhood. Instantly, winter was his favorite season. Let it snow.

And did it. All throughout the day a heavy, dark cloud blotted out the sky over the entire city, drifting down fat clumps of white flakes in absolute stillness. The snow dampened the sound of the entire city and gave the sound of their boots crunching and squeaking through the thickening snow on the walks an almost irreverent feel. Their breath puffed out in steamy clouds that froze nearly instantly and settled on their highly-wound scarves in a light white frost. Such a level of cold was very unusual in daytime, but the clouds (or cloud, as it hovered solid and unbroken over Central) were so full of moisture intended to be let down over the city that it blocked the light of the sun enough to keep the city in a perpetual dim dusk.

The falling white fluffs of ice fascinated the young Sin, who caught a few on an upturned gloved palm and peered at them so intently she could no longer see the whites of his eyes. When she suggested catching one on his tongue, it led to a light-hearted but absolutely serious chase for a fluff falling from the sky with his tongue thrust out as far as it could reach, darting this way and that. Hawkeye was barely able to contain her laughter behind her scarf at how delightfully ridiculous he looked. When he finally caught one, he turned to her with a triumphant open-mouthed smile and she dutifully clapped an applause with her thick gloves that only gave a puffing sound; judging by his satisfied smile as he took her arm once again, it was enough.

Both were dressed respectably and warm in long wool trench coats, Hawkeye's in light blue and wrapped in a crème colored scarf just up to her nose, and Lust in solid black with the collar lifted, a gray scarf draped casually over his shoulders and loosely wrapped a couple times around his neck, just enough to obscure the lower part of his face. A black and gray banded fedora pulled down low over his brow finished the winter costume.

Rattling trains never did suit the former First Lieutenant, with their occasional irregular sway that constantly tossed her from Lust's side amid the lulling regular swaying, and the frequent jarring movements that rattled her teeth together. Hawkeye was just covering a yawn with the back of her glove when Lust broke the comfortable silence of their walk.

"Oh, I should tell you... Dante has a new body."

Startled, Hawkeye's yawn was aborted and her hand dropped away, turning her head to stare at him in disbelief. "Did I hear you right?" she asked in a low tone. "Did you say a new _body_? I thought she was human!"

He nodded smugly, clearly pleased with himself to be able to provide useful information to her. At least his time had not been wasted in that house. "Yep, and she is human. She had the body of an old woman, but now she wears the skin of the young woman with wedged black hair she had working for her for a while. A rather severe look, but..." He shrugged without loosening his grip on her arm. "Eh. She still stinks to me. Smells like rot."

"She... took this woman's body?"

He nodded again. "It's this soul transfer thing she does to live forever, but it's not working so well anymore. Her bodies all start to decompose after a while, so she has to keep on skipping bodies."

She walked on, mulling over this new information in the sound-stifling quiet the snow provided. A clump of snowflakes fell on her cheek which she hurriedly bushed away.

"Your creator, the mind transfers, that's why they were so interested in her. Envy said the alchemist that created you was getting close to a breakthrough. It was all to fuel this woman's... vanity." Her eyes narrowed and the scarf hid the disgusted curl of her lip. "I can't believe they're actually killing and torturing countless human lives in the name of 'chimera research', just so this one woman can rob bodies and become immortal!"

Lust cleared his throat uncomfortably, barely shifting his eyes to the woman at his side. "There's something else you should know."

This can't be good. She took a breath to steady herself and mentally braced for whatever he had to say next, kicking through a snowdrift left by yet another neighbor that refused to shovel the walk. "Yes?"

"Scar is in Lior. There haven't been any alchemist deaths there yet, but Dante was happy to report that he's carving a huge transmutation circle around and through the entire city."

She stopped abruptly and Lust had to stomp his next pace to prevent pulling her forward and off her feet. Looking back, he saw her eyes staring ahead in horror.

"Riza?" No answer. "Riza?" he exclaimed, dropping her arm and spinning to face her and grasp her shoulders. A mini-eternity passed as he searched her face, then his anxious eyes winced. Whatever he saw there persuaded him to grasp her hands instead and lift them gently to his chest. She never noticed.

"They... They're there." Her voice sounded hollow, as distant as her gaze. "Havoc and Fuery were transferred to Lior. I think even Breda may be there, too. Falman's safe in the north... Rebecca is stationed in the East, so she might..." She clenched her eyes shut, hands closing into fists in her gloves. "I can't lose any more... I can't... I just can't-"

Lust abruptly crushed her to his chest and held her close, arms holding her securely against him and bowing his head to press cheek to cheek.

"I'm sorry, Riza. I'm so sorry. Everything is being taken from you, isn't it?" he murmured by her ear. "And you never had much to begin with, never asking for anything at all... but those you did have meant everything to you. _Everything_. I know. You put all your value in the people around you."

He paused, his warm breath warming the flesh of her cheek and ear for a few seconds, then the bitter cold air rushing in to chill the moisture of his breath again with each inhalation. It was all she could do to not shiver. "To lose every person you loved and cared about one by one, from your mother and father to... him. Then everything and everyone you've ever known was taken at once and now you can only run from those who in another life would have had to salute you. I can't imagine the helplessness you feel now."

The more he went on, the physically weaker she felt. Soon he was supporting her upright, her arms weakly pressed between their chests within the soft layers of their thick clothing. She buried her face into his coat and felt it catch the dampness that slipped from her eyes. Damn, but she felt tired. To the bone tired, and this god awful mess had only just begun.

Yes, it was all true. Things she would never dare openly admit, he did for her now.

The snow fell continually, unheeding of the two locked in a desperate embrace. Soft clumps of frozen flakes clung to her free-flowing hair, the flakes having the appearance of a starry night against the solid black. His cheek pressed to the side of her head, his lips close enough to her ear to speak softly.

"Everything and everyone you've ever known and loved and even your purpose for living was already taken, and... now you're scared even your remaining friends will be taken next. I know I'm a poor substitute, but... I'm still here." He lifted his head away to try and see her face, his arms still around her securely. "And it's not too late for them. You know the plan now, so you can let the military know and they won't play right into Dante's hands."

Hawkeye wiped at her eyes quickly, embarrassed at her show of weakness and avoiding his direct gaze. "I'm sorry... you're right," she breathed. "You're right. This is what we were planning to do in the beginning anyway. Slow and derail the homunculi's plans with the information you give me that I pass on to the right people. We... we can slow Scar somehow, at least. Maybe destroy the circle. Something. It's not over yet." She stood up taller and straightened her shoulders, nodding with a breath. "It's... it's okay. Thank you for telling me. Do you know how much time we have until Scar is expected to finish?" she ended in a stronger voice.

He still watched her intently, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. "Envy reported it will be done in a couple more weeks. There's still a little time."

"Two weeks. All right. Lior will be my first stop when I leave Central." While her voice was slightly muted, the normal strength and steadiness was back in her reddish-brown eyes. Stripped of nearly everything, Riza Hawkeye remained Riza Hawkeye.

Nodding, he pulled off his fedora and leaned in to press a tender and lingering kiss to her forehead, then touched their brows to look deeply into her eyes, their hair a matching black that blended seamlessly together as the sky began to dust his hair with icy stars as well. Her anxiety eased and melted away with the affection and reassurance. He eventually took a step back to take his place at her side again, offering his arm. Taking the arm, they began down the sidewalk once more.

"Lust," she whispered. "You cut me to the quick. Don't... don't do that. Please."

He smiled gently and watched her from the corner of his narrow lilac eyes. "You're welcome."

* * *

The pair wandered a seemingly aimless path through the lower-middle class streets of east Central.

Lust's first memories were made during a time of confusion and great stress, so she didn't expect him to be able to trace his way back to his first home so easily. It was taking a few hours of constant walking, however, and Hawkeye was beginning to mind the throbbing ache of the cold creeping and biting into her wound. They were growing more concerned that he might never be able to recognize the place before the invisible sun began its descent when he finally slowed to a stop before a red brick building on a corner lot, staring up at the white portico that led to a weathered white door. A realty sign hung around one of the colonnades offering the house for sale.

"Is this it?" she asked quietly.

Locked onto the facade of the building, he didn't answer right away. She could feel a tension in the biceps that supported her injured arm that wasn't there before.

"Yeah. This is it. I remember this door."

His expression was strange and a little unreadable, which was unusual for her. Normally she could read his expressions like a book through her experience with the former Colonel.

"Lust? Are you okay with this? We don't have to go in if you're not completely sure you're ready."

His eyes hardened through his fine spray of black bangs and his chest rose and fell in a purposeful breath. "No. We're here, let's go."

Still watching him more than the building, she nodded in silent support and took the concrete steps carefully. The first few steps were covered in a light inch of snow, but the rest of the porch was protected from the weather and safe to cross.

"It's lucky no one else moved in after her death," she noted with a glance at the "For Sale" sign. It looked a bit weathered as well, valiantly pleading its cause through the last summer, fall, and now winter. "But if she was Xing, that would complicate things. Technically it's illegal for foreigners to own land in Amestris, but that law is 'ignored' in favor of a quick sale in this tight wartime economy. It only gets messy when inheritance is involved."

Lust nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He was walking slowly to the door as if he were in a light trance, reaching for the knob and of course finding it locked. He frowned at the offending thing and lifted his hand away to pull off the warm glove briskly to build up some clear acid on his bare palm.

Hawkeye reached out quickly to grasp his wrist and restrain him. "No! Don't do that, they'll know you've been here! You're trying to build their trust, and if they find out you're investigating anything about your past or Roy's, it's all over."

Frowning, the acid faded until it disappeared from his palm within a matter of seconds and he pulled the glove back on. "Then what do you suggest?" he asked with a hint of irritation.

Good question. It was only mid-afternoon so they couldn't simply break it down without rousing the attention of nosy neighbors. She reached out and tried to twist the handle but met the resistance of a lock, but a brief shaking revealed the deadbolt was not engaged. She bent and squinted at the place where the door met the jam. "There looks to be enough room here," she said, rising upright and pointing for Lust's benefit. "If you could use your claw to break the molding, you can reach the latch and wiggle a bit until it goes back in the door. It would easily pass as bored kids or desperate burglars."

Raising one hand already clawed, the Sin leaned in closer and slipped two claws between the molding and door and pulled back, the wood splintering into fragments with ease. Following her instructions and wiggling a claw onto the latch, he had the door open in less than ten seconds. It swung open with an elongated squeak.

The living room had been cleared out all personal effects and cleaned for new tenants. The cleaning must have occurred months ago, judging by the thin, even layer of dust that covered every surface and tickled Hawkeye's nose with an enclosed, musty smell. A fireplace mantel of white brick stood opposite the wall that faced the street, which held three large windows to fill the room with light in the daytime. Rich, dark hardwood flooring covered the entire flat, which complimented the white walls charmingly. Only the small kitchen situated next to the front door had white tile, but the wood grain of the cupboards matched the rest of the flooring throughout the home. It all tied together to make a homey atmosphere, and in the daylight would be even more pleasant. Unfortunately, the overcast skies and window shutters kept the little home in darkness.

This was Lust's investigation, so she stepped aside and let him explore the surroundings at his own speed. While she meandered into the living room, he bounded up the stairs. There was no heat in the building, but it was sheltered from the steady snowfall and cold air outside so she took off the scarf and overcoat, stuffing her gloves in a generous pocket and laying it out over a kitchen counter. Human transmutation circles would be drawn on the floor and took up a lot of space, so she walked into the largest room in the home, inspecting the floor without expecting anything. All sign of anything out of place or relating to alchemy would have been meticulously removed by whoever handled such matters from the labs, but she would be remiss if she didn't even take a look. She had seen one before, the gory aftermath of a failed attempt in Resenbool. Actually, it wasn't an entirely failed attempt as she had so recently discovered.

"I wonder how long ago this- oh, right." Hawkeye turned around with lips parted to ask a question, but Lust wasn't there. Half a minute later he appeared around the bend at the top of the staircase and stepped almost silently down the stairs while shedding his coat. That garment was draped over the horizontal part of the banister at the foot of the stair, and the hat and scarf followed.

"Lust," she asked once he reached the lower floor. "How old are you?"

The man proudly displayed five fingers.

Hawkeye snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth to keep in a laugh at the innocent, childlike display. How cute! Elycia did the same to show her age.

Clearing her throat, she quickly recovered and nodded in acknowledgment. "Five months. That would make it... July. The very month Roy was murdered. Envy was right about how fast your creator acted after his death."

He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of the leather pants and lofted a brow at her strange reaction to his age, then shrugged and dismissed it with a nonchalant air. "Nothing upstairs, in case you were wondering." Finally he looked down to the floor of the living room he had been avoiding. "So Envy wasn't lying about that part, hm?"

"Seems so." Hawkeye followed his gaze and remained quiet with him for a while. Her thoughts were inexorably drawn to the question of the possibility that Roy's soul once graced this room five months ago. Finally, "Can you tell me about it?" she invited gently. "Your first memories, how it all happened."

His mind was already there; the heavy and distant expression said it all. First one step, then another, each as heavy as a condemned man walking to the gallows, and he turned and knelt with a hand to the floor to face a certain significant location in his memory.

At first he would not lift his eyes from his splayed fingers supporting him, but he deliberately lifted his eyes to a spot on the floor a few feet ahead of him. Teeth gritting, he took a quick breath through his nose and plowed ahead.

"The first thing I ever saw was a woman laying on her side along the floor and watching me with a smile. Blood ran from both corners of her mouth, but she never stopped smiling up at me. It was... frightening. Everything was terrifying, and the pain..." He clenched his eyes shut tight, closing his supporting fingers into a fist pressed to the hardwood. "Damn, I... couldn't think of anything else except the pain and fear. Only... only my back felt no pain. Just a warmth that left almost right away. I had no idea what was going on. It was my first experience of _anything_."

Hawkeye's attention diverted from his face to his back, swallowing silently.

Lust pried his eyes open and forced himself to stare at the spot on the floor that was filled with the image in his memory. "And then she spoke and pushed some red stones across the floor to me, telling me to eat them quickly, it will stop the pain. So I reached out, and... was shocked by the black and red thing that reached out to take them. My arm, that was _my_ arm, but it was half-formed with exposed bone and muscle and strings of black skin. She told me to hurry so I did what she said, her voice was so... soothing and reassuring somehow. Very soft. I trusted it. I grabbed the stones and tried to ignore the sight of my own body. It got better right away once I ate them. The pain faded away and I felt my body change... _ease_ into something more natural and sort of... fill out. The relief I felt was incredible, all I could do was lay there and breathe hard. We kept watching each other, she smiling the entire time so softly, and then after a while I realized she wasn't moving. Not even breathing. Then I got scared again."

Off to the side and leaning against the wall by the fireplace, Hawkeye stood a silent sentinel over the man grappling with the remembered fear of a child. Her arms were folded over her chest in a way that supported her injured arm and also restrained herself to remain still. Part of her wanted to go to him and offer the comfort he needed in that memory, but the wiser part of her allowed him to face it alone. Sometimes one must walk a path alone or not at all - but he was never really alone.

"I looked at my hands and arms but they were different. Not black with exposed bone anymore, but with whole skin. I looked more like the woman on the floor now. But-" Lust groaned and faced away from the alchemist in his memory and Hawkeye both. "I really was pathetic. I was still scared, so I tried to hide somewhere. I didn't know how to move my body well, so I crawled to curl up in a corner of the room. I don't know how long I stayed there, but eventually I calmed down enough to get up, learn how to use my legs, and began exploring the room."

He gathered himself to his feet and brushed his hands off brusquely. The dust of pink on his cheeks betrayed just how hard it was to admit all this out loud: Lust at his most weak and childlike state. Darting his eyes around the empty room for some distraction, he walked around a large portion of the room, which she knew to be the place the woman died, and pointed to a spot only a few feet in front of him near the wall farthest of the kitchen. "I found some clothes laid out here on the small sofa and tried them on. Kept some, left some."

"Lust," Hawkeye finally spoke. "You're not wearing women's clothes."

He turned to face her, an eyebrow picking up a fast tic in a very Roy-like gesture of exasperation. "Of course I'm not wearing women's clothes. What kind of comment is that?"

"No," she corrected with unwavering patience. "I mean you're not wearing women's clothes. She bought men's clothing for you. She was trying to provide for you from the very beginning."

Surprised, he looked down at himself and slid his hands with unconscious sensuality down the smooth leather coat. "Yeah. Definitely not. Its like they were made for me. Perfect fit," he ended with a nod of finality.

Hawkeye pushed off the side of the fireplace and approached him with arms still folded, also avoiding the spot Lust had out of respect for the deceased. She stopped beside him and regarded the avoided spot on the hardwood.

"She wanted you. She cared about you, enough to give her life and provide for you the best she could before she left this world. You were born from love and hope, not something bad." After a little thought, she added, "I find it somewhat ironic that both you and Roy had Xing mothers. I believe she died of illness when Roy was two; she never quite recovered from the birth."

Lust stared at her, not the floor. She pretended not to notice, to let him process everything he had been discovering here in the privacy of his own mind. She felt his eyes fall to her injured arm, then back to _that _spot_. _He folded his arms hard over his chest; she could hear the crinkle of the leather as it strained against the grip of his fingertips.

"No more women will die for me," he pronounced in a low tone, a hint of a growl rumbling underneath. She looked over and was held by the firm set of his eyes and jaw.

"Alright," she allowed. "Though I had no plans on dying, anyway."

* * *

Before they could enact the last and most suicidal part of their plan in Central (for that day, at least), they had to wait for night to fall and deepen. There was no better plan to wile away the time in a warm place than getting a bite to eat. Hawkeye was famished by the time they had left the empty home, anyhow.

Most places were too brightly lit and cheerful to provide the privacy the pair needed. The place they finally settled on was a bar and grill that was really more bar than grill, but it had only stained glass windows and stained glass lampshades over the dimmed lights hanging over the sticky wood tables, so it was perfect. Only one waitress served the tables that night. The pace was so slow due to the continuing snowfall that she spent much of her time chatting at the end of the bar with the burly barkeep who wiped clear mugs to a crystalline shine and laughed at nearly anything she had to say.

"Didn't they feed you in that house?" Hawkeye looked at him with a brow quirked in amazement, fork paused in midair. A bead of red vinaigrette dripped from the knot of lettuce and spinach leaves back to her plate.

Lust had tucked into his steak and eggs as if it were the first thing he had eaten in a week. Stabbing another forkful of steak and hash browns, the homunculus paused only to give her a flat look. "Gluttony lives there too, remember?"

Her brows disappeared behind her splayed fringe of hair in understanding. "Oh." Picturing while trying not to picture that monster devouring everything in sight, the sniper turned back to finishing her salad. Long-ingrained habits ruled that dinner must be taken in order, just as her father had taught her. The salad would be finished before she could start on her own steak. It wasn't easy. The sharply bitter and blessedly sweet tastes of the salad and dressing did not taste nearly as appetizing as it did before the steaming and sizzling plate of steak, potatoes, and eggs arrived. The seasonings were visible on the glistening surface of her entree and she could almost taste it on her tongue. The combined scents of both courses was so strong it nearly burned her nose. Hawkeye sighed and tore her eyes from it to hurriedly spear a few more leaves of greenery so she could move on.

Maybe she was moving too slow.

"Are you going to eat your steak?" he asked hopefully, leaning closer with eyes darting between her and her plate, ready to grab it the moment she gave the word. The fork in his hand twitched in anticipation.

Exasperated, "Yes!" She shoved her unfinished salad plate away and pulled the heavy plate in front of her, glaring at Lust in a silent warning.

The black-haired man shrugged in staged and exaggerated nonchalance and returned focus on his own plate. She could have sworn she saw him smirk before another piece of steak disappeared into his mouth.

When Lust was long done (and staring hungrily at either her or her dinner, she couldn't tell which) and Hawkeye was winding up her own meal, the server pushed away from the bar and made her way to their table.

"Are you two about ready for dessert?" she asked brightly while pulling out a pad of paper from her apron with pen at the ready.

Lust draped his arm over the back of his chair and half turned to face her, a playful smirk on his face. "Dessert, huh? What would you... _suggest_?"

After so much time with him, Hawkeye had gotten used to his constant suggestiveness and sexual insinuations. Not until the server blushed and tucked her chin shyly did she remember that not everyone was immune to his charms. She rolled her eyes and scooped up another forkful of potatoes.

"W-we have hot apple and pumpkin pie, and you can have that a la mode, if you'd like. There's also hot apple cider with cinnamon as well."

Lust zeroed in on the girl's shyness, his narrow eyes suggesting many things. He rested his cheek to his fist, elbow propped on the edge of the table. "Dessert sounds absolutely _enticing_. It really wraps up the meal nicely, doesn't it? Like that little smile after a kiss."

The waitress flushed and smiled, glancing at the raven-haired woman at the table. Hawkeye pretended to ignore them both and finished up with her own plate. Apparently taking it as confirmation that the two were not on a date, the girl focused her renewed attention on the man in front of her, lifting the pad to her chest with slender arms comfortably crossed in a way that better showed rather than hid her breasts. "That's... a lovely way of putting it. I agree. So what would you like me to get for you tonight?"

"On such a cold night... something warm and sweet, very moist, with a bit of spice... But I should probably order dessert first, right? Hehe- OW!" The sultry look on his face disappeared in the instant his knee jerked up hard enough against the underside of table to send the dishes clattering. Lust turned to cast a disgruntled look to Hawkeye but froze the moment he saw her glaring expression. The sharp kick to his shin was nothing compared to the peeved and exasperated look she gave him that silently conveyed the message _I'm right HERE! _

Lust cleared his throat and straightened in his chair to face his companion sheepishly, avoiding looking up at the server for now. "What would you like, dear?" he asked sweetly.

"One order of apple pie a la mode with a mug of hot cider. We'll share." Hawkeye glared daggers at the both of them until the confused girl hurried away, throwing wary glances over her shoulder to the woman at the table.

"_What _were you-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Lust rushed in, leaning closer to her over the table and drawing a palm over his eyes. "I just... couldn't help myself. I'm Lust, remember. Lust incarnate can't resist lust. I could feel the heat rising up in her body and..." He lifted a hand helplessly, shaking his head, at a loss for words.

"Like a moth to a flame," she sighed, shaking her head.

"The only thing to do is keep me sated," he counseled gravely, lifting his eyes hopefully to her face.

"You're incorrigible." But there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Besides, you'd better prepare for a dry spell. We're going to be apart for a while again."

The man shifted in his seat and looked away. "Don't worry about that." All playfulness had disappeared.

Hawkeye gave him a curious look but something in his tight expression told her not to inquire further. She suspected something was amiss, but dropped the subject for his sake.

* * *

The cold was in their favor in many ways. It first allowed them good disguises that allowed them to walk almost anywhere in the city unhindered. Secondly, it sent most of the population indoors. Third, it made those whose unlucky scheduling forced them into outdoor guard duty on a cold winter night to not be at their most alert and mobile. Those individuals, Hawkeye knew, would not move around more than absolutely necessary, preferring instead to focus on the all-time most popular winter activity: stamping their feet, blowing, and exclaiming to one another how blasted _cold_ it was. Less mobile and alert military police meant less of a chance that they would be discovered trespassing on military property.

"I've heard them mention the destruction of Lab 5, talk about how it set them back a bit. Dante especially hates it because they were focusing on the stone there. Focus was moved here after that," Lust explained in hushed tones as they walked arm in arm along the chilled streets. They had learned a lot at the site of Lust's birthplace and ever since they had left the home, the Sin seemed to walk a little taller. His newfound curiosity had grown along with a soft determination that shined in his eyes, not hidden by the shadow of the fedora.

The couple approached the lab's fenced in exterior, following the sidewalk a few feet before Lust slowly came to a stop. Halfway between the front and back gates, the decorative stone columns offered somewhat of a blind spot for the guards stationed there. The Sin scanned the immediate area and back to the still falling snow that was covering their tracks. "We have to move now," he whispered before crouching, lowering himself to one knee. "You're still hurt. If you can hold onto my back, I'll get us both over."

With one last glance around the empty streets, Hawkeye looked down to the crouching man and paused, thinking it over briefly. She bent and unbuttoned the bottom half of her coat to just under her waist before climbing onto his back with care, her good arm around his shoulders and the bad loosely curled around his chest. Since both his hands were needed to scale the fence, she was forced to use her thighs to keep a grip on him.

Once he was sure her grip was secure, Lust stood and took hold of the metal bars and pulled himself up, feet finding purchase upon the small brick wall that made up the bottom half of the fence. Standing there allowed him to reach the top and pick his way carefully over the top. Those spear points were not decorative, but by some miracle they managed to get over the points at the top of the iron fence without a single incident or injury. The man lowered himself to the other side and ducked within the brush so Hawkeye could take to her feet once more.

"We didn't pull anything, did we?" Violet eyes quickly scanned her form despite the fact that he wouldn't see anything under the thick layers of clothing she wore.

Once safe on the ground, she slid off as quietly as possible and crouched low into the foliage. "No, it's fine," she assured him. "Can you see anyone?"

Lust craned his neck, scanning the immediate area for signs of more guards. He soon shook his head. "No," he answered in a whisper, "but I think I see our way in." He jerked his head to a ground floor window just ahead of them.

She nodded curtly, all business now that they were on a mission. "Remember: no evidence of entry or exit, Lust. I doubt anyone would leave a window open or unlocked in this weather."

He nodded again, keeping the speaking as minimal as possible to not attract attention. "So what do you suggest? There's some kind of vent further to the left, but it looks really small."

Spying the vent he was seeing, she had to agree. "Looks like a bathroom vent anyway." But the mention of a vent gave her an idea. Leaning forward, she pushed a small branch gently away, but the motion was still enough to disturb the precarious snow and topple a small amount to the ground. She froze with branch in hand, eyes cutting to the guards at the gates, but the small, innocuous sound went completely unnoticed. Hawkeye leaned forward again to look up through the gap in the branches to the roof.

"There's some up top for ventilation, it's the same for almost every military building around here. They have big fan blades in front of them, but those are covered during winter. If you could get in that way and make your way down, you can open that window for me." She tilted her head to the first window he had noticed.

"Alright. I'll hurry." Casting his gaze upwards, he nodded again before silently stepping forward through the brush. He scanned the area once more before crouching then jumping as high as he could. He climbed to the first ledge, then the second and third, pulling himself up to the third story's roof. Bending low to minimize his profile, he pressed himself to the fourth floor wall and climbed to the very top of the building. From there his profile disappeared and she had to wait. Anxious minutes stretched on and she glanced at the men at the front gate again and again. If he was caught, they would be notified by radio. Finally, the window she was watching moved up a few inches to let her know he had arrived.

Giving the gate a final glance, the woman ran low and hunched over to the window and helped him slide it all the way up. From there it was easy to sit on the sill, swing her legs inside, and slide into the silent and darkened room. She found herself in a break room. A few metal chairs surrounded a single round military-issue table; two rectangular tables lined the walls with two coffee makers, a small selection of coffee cans, ceramic cups, creamers, a couple empty boxes of donuts, and the other usual fare found in rooms like this in office buildings around the world. The wet squeak of her boot drew her attention to the mud and slush she had just deposited on the waxed linoleum. A quick look around produced a stack of napkins, which she used to clean the bottom of her boots and the puddle on the floor before either could make clear tracks down to the more interesting lab beneath.

Lust's climb and the walk across the roof had managed to clean his boots of snow and water or else he would have left trail through the entire building. Inching towards the door, he cast a glance back to Riza while stuffing his warm gloves into a coat pocket. "The stairs aren't too far away and they look like they go down another flight."

"Alright. Follow me," she said, following his example with the gloves. "I don't know how good your memories are of this place. Be my eyes and ears, okay?"

Without waiting for a reply, she slid with her back against the wall around the corner, checking down both ends of the hall before she began to lead the way.

Lab 3 wasn't a very large building, but it was a fairly large facility altogether with the underground portion factored in. Most of the area beneath was unknown to her, but all that mattered was finding the area Lust's mother most likely worked.

Lust simply let her lead and followed a couple feet behind. He didn't have any memory of this section, but the mention of lab 3 itself sparked something within him. Passing through one of the lower hallways, he paused outside a darkened room.

She stopped with him, looking in the same direction alertly. Not daring to draw attention to them if she could help it, she only looked to Lust in a silent question.

"I... remember this place." He paused, then stepped through the doorway. "Well, its in my memories. Mustang was here, with..." He mentally searched for the name. "Havoc. And they both faced..." There was another pause but his eyes widened, hands sliding into his pockets. "Lust."

She stayed in the doorway, now remembering that the close call with death both men had experienced in this room. "Yes," she said hesitantly, quickly looking down the hall both ways to make sure they remained undetected. "Lieutenant Havoc missed being paralyzed by a hairsbreadth." She focused on Lust, worried how he would accept this new memory. "That was the old Lust. A woman with an Oroborus on her chest, and nails that could slice through anything."

Watching the memory for himself, he soon winced. "Yeah, I can see that. It left him with a nasty scar, though, both of them." The Sin shook his head and turned away from the semi-familiar scene. "I could easily become lost in this, but this is a dangerous place and we have things to do."

She nodded and stepped back from the doorway to let him pass. As he did so, she reached out to let her hand brush the top of his shoulders, the only break in her all-business attitude she allowed. After that, she led him further within the laboratory.

Rooms were filled with chimera of all sorts of horrifying combinations. While perfectly legal, the screeching lizard-fowl and grunting goat-boar hybrids that paced and scratched the metal cages disgusted Hawkeye on a deeper level. It felt as if the existence of such creatures was an affront to her humanity. Watching Lust's back as he passed her in front of yet another row of cages, she forced her mind silent. What defined" human" these days, anyhow?

"To be honest, Lust, I have no idea what we're looking for here. All I know is we _won't_ see an office with her name on the door."

"Neither do I. All I know about her, you know, too. Mind transfers, copies..." He sighed but continued to follow her. "We'll have to search files, subjects. But all in all, this may be a useless search. There's no guarantee we'll even find anything, but I just have to try before it's all covered up. Who knows, they may have already done it."

"Yes," she agreed softly. It may be a wild goose chase, or maybe her will 'o the wisp had taken her down another circling path. One room seemed quieter than the rest, lined with larger cages. It seemed safer to wander through than the last that, if she had to guess, held howler monkeys judging by the cacophony, and less likely to alert others. The experiments in this area of the lab seemed more advanced than the rest. The creatures weren't as grotesque, misshapen. Some special cages were more like prison cells that held humans that looked, in form, as perfect as any other human.

"These... aren't like normal chimera." The man slowed his pace and bent low enough to look into one of the animal cages. "Do you think this could be it?" He asked, a soft hint of growing excitement in his voice. What they found may not be what they wanted to know, but it was at least something. "She worked with minds, not combining animals and humans." Violet eyes pulled away from the various experiments and focused hopefully upon Riza.

The (former) blonde was not the one with the answers this time, but maybe she could pose the right questions. One man nested in a pile of hay in a corner of the next cell was staring at them anxiously. Hawkeye cleared her throat and leaned closer, leaning a hand against the thick bars. "Excuse me... Sorry for disturbing your sleep, but could you tell me what's going on in this room?"

Intrigued, Lust moved to stand beside her, bending at the waist and watching the caged man. The young Sin held his breath as he waited.

The man made no response. She opened her mouth to repeat herself and in a flash the man lunged at the bars of the cage, growling and barking at her. Stunned, Hawkeye backpedaled a couple steps to get out of the range of his clawing arms.

"You won't get anything out of _him_, love," a hoarse voice from behind informed her.

She spun to face the source, a hand thrusting into her coat for the loaned pistol until it sunk in that she was facing yet another cage. A dry chuckle echoed hollowly from the prison at her reaction.

"You don't belong here," the voice stated matter-of-factly. Hawkeye stepped forward with caution, ignoring the eerie frustrated barks behind her and squinting into the darkness.

"Who are you?" Lust demanded, on edge after the attempted attack. Both hands were readied and clawed at his sides.

Another hoarse chuckle from the dark cage, then a scuffling sound as a naked man drew closer to the bars and into the dim light of the room. A few months worth of neglected beard growth hid his jaw and left his hair long and stringy.

"Who? I haven't been asked that in a while now." The man leaned against the bars and clung to it with a scrawny hand. "Private First Class Henry Riggs, once upon a time, before I ended up in this hell."

Hawkeye's mouth was a straight thin line, one hand clenched tightly at her side as she stared hard at the metal bars of the cage. Just what separated herself and the men and women she worked with every day from this man? Who was chosen to be more "worthwhile" as a human or as a chimera, and who made those horrible and disgusting choices? Martel's squad was chosen to be chimeras to cover up some dirty military acts in Ishval (as if hers were any more honorable), and Hughes was killed when he got too close to truths like these, and Mustang-

Another voice erupted from the cage immediately right of Henry's. "Don't believe a word of it!" A hand emerged from between the bars to shake an emphatic finger at Hawkeye. "He's not Henry Riggs, I am! He's just an experiment, the idiot." Abruptly startled from her dark thoughts, she blinked and looked between the two men. The intruder in their conversation was in the same shape as the first man, only with nearly black hair instead of the first Henry's light brown.

"W-what?" Surprise sapped her of eloquence. Hearing about mind copies didn't compare to actually seeing it in person. Even the man at her side appeared frustrated, raking a hand through his hair and looking between both cages with narrowed eyes.

The second Henry jabbed a finger to the first cage. "That's just an experiment. They took my mind and memories and planted it into his empty head. _My_ memories are real. I remember everything, even the transmutation that made that thing!"

Heaving a weary sigh, the first man shook his head and waved a dismissive hand to his roommate. "Ignore him, love. He's just an angry bastard with identity issues he's not handling well, _as if that weren't obvious already!_" He turned his head towards the offender and yelled the last.

"Shaddup, puppet-man," Henry #2 retorted.

"Listen, we don't have time for this," Lust broke in, a muscle in his brow twitching in irritation. "Did a Xing woman do this? Do you remember seeing one here?"

"Oooh yeah, I remember that broad," Henry #2 drawled out, leaning back against the metal wall of his personal prison. "She sure was the one responsible for all this. Why do you care, and sneaking into a place like this anyway? What, you related to her or something?"

"Something like that."

"Haven't seen her in ages. Hope she's rotting in some cage, too, it's what the bitch deserves. Hopefully with some mix of pig, or- oh!" He rose a finger to make his point, a wicked glee shining in his hazel eyes. "Better yet, a rat! Whatever is more disg-"

"Do you ever shut up?" Henry #1 groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead as if nursing a growing headache. "I apologize for him, you two. He probably ended up here in the first place because of his obnoxiousness. I can see him pissing off the wrong brass..."

Lust spoke over the second man's grumbling complaints to ask the first, "So she was here, then disappeared? What happened after that?"

"Ah, well..." Henry #1 stared off into the hall the pair had come from, rubbing the metal bar with a thumb. "She was here and was in charge of everything alchemy-wise all right, but she wasn't happy about it. Treated us well enough, despite..." His free hand waved around his pitiful arrangements. "There's the baddies and the BIG baddies, you know? Here, the enemies of your enemies are still not your friends. When she didn't come back one day, I figured she finally run right off, you know? The big baddies were pissed off enough to give me that impression. Thought they were finally going to kill us all, which is fine by me-"

"Speak for yourself..." Henry #2 grumbled.

"I am, you fool! But if all they took was you, I'd still be all right by that!" The first Henry huffed and looked back up to the man and woman standing patiently outside his cage. "No, I think we're just kept in living storage until they find an alchemist that can figure out how that Xingese woman done all this."

Lust had folded his arms and bowed his head, a long sigh making his bowed shoulders slowly rise and fall. "Still no closer," he mumbled.

Brows knit, she looked from one Henry to the other. "I disagree."

Lust lifted his head and stared at her.

Hawkeye tossed a thumb in Henry #2's direction. "_He's_ an asshole."

"_Hey!_"

"Shut up, you dolt, you know it's true," the first Henry droned.

Lust continued to stare at her blankly.

She sighed. The homunculus' failure to grasp details and put them together to solve a puzzle like Roy Mustang did without effort only emphasized the point she was trying to make.

"They both claim to be the same Henry Riggs with the same memories, but they're completely different. A mind does not a soul make. Everyone is still able to make independent choices, feel his own feelings, have his own opinions." She looked through the bars to the first Henry with sympathy, who was listening attentively. "Your personality, your soul, is what makes you _you_. Not your mind or memories."

All present fell into contemplative silence that stretched nearly a full minute. Even the man that had barked at them earlier was languidly laying back in the hay and scratching himself.

"You'd better get out of here while you still can," Henry #1 warned softly.

* * *

"I refuse!"

"Al-"

"No, Ed! I can't just leave you here like this! Not now."

The smaller blond folded his arms and bowed his head with a soft grunt of frustration. The towering suit of armor stared resolutely at him with gauntlets clenched, unmoved.

"It's not safe in the city-"

"Come on, brother," Alphonse broke in. "It's not safe anywhere. At least I can help protect Rose."

Both brothers reflexively looked toward the ever-growing temporary military base that spread out over three square miles. Nary a full mile from the base rose the desert abodes of the inhabitants of Lior. But the greater threat stood with arms folded firmly over his chest, long rat-tail of hair tied at the base of his skull and grinning at the brothers. Kimblee was far enough away to not hear the conversation, but not far enough away for the boys to escape the threat of his very presence.

"Stupid ass of a colonel and his 'no non-military personnel in military installations' bullcrap... Archer's let a little power go to his head." Edward Elric sighed hard and scratched his head in chagrin. "Fine, fine," he conceded with heavy reluctance. "Watch over Rose, but be careful. Don't forget to protect yourself, too." Looking up at his little brother with his hand on the back of his neck, there was no hint of good humor or even a ghost of a smile in his expression. Something so flat and defeated had never been seen on Ed's face before, and it hurt Alphonse to have to leave him like this, alone and thrown to the wolves.

The armor made a sighing sound and creaked in the act of slumping, but it was not from relief.

"Hey," Ed forced a smile. "Don't forget to oil your armor. The sand gets everywhere."

"Yeah." Al nodded. "I will."

"They have a radio. Sargent Fuery can relay messages somehow for us. We'll figure out something, but we have to be careful. We're all walking on thin ice as it is."

"Only in an emergency, okay? I don't want to get them in trouble. It's already bad enough, we can't drag anyone down with us."

Ed's expression shifted fast to something hard and angry, hand falling to his hip and the red coat folding around his white gloved hand. "Don't worry. I won't let that happen. I'll do whatever it takes to protect them, and you." The simple mention of his brother eased some of the anger away, the tension washing away from his body. "That's why I wish you would just go to Winry and have a nice holiday, safe from all this."

"I said I'm not leaving you," Al insisted, then gestured to Lior. "Even if Archer won't let me stay at the base with you, I'll be close by. At least we'll know where each of us are and if something happens to one of us, the other can help."

They stood staring at each other, neither knowing when they'd be able to speak together again. Never being separated like this before, they had no idea how to say goodbye, nor had they any desire to ever say that word.

"I guess I'll... see you later."

"Yeah." Alphonse's voice sounded more hollow than usual.

"Be careful, Al."

"You too. Especially you; don't be such a hothead."

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire, eh, Al?" Ed chuckled dryly.

"Heh, yeah," the youngest Elric said without enthusiasm.

Alphonse raised a fist out to his brother. Ed paused only a moment before raising his automail arm and pressing his own fist to his. Without a further word, they turned away from each other and walked in opposite directions across the desert sand: Edward back to the military base and the waiting Kimblee, and Alphonse to the hotbed of civil unrest known as Lior. Neither looked back once.

* * *

The rations for State Alchemists were much improved over the common foot soldier, something Edward Elric could not make himself appreciate. Whatever they put on his tin plate had no taste to him, anyway. At first he tried to eat in the mess hall with the few State Alchemists the military had called in, but being so young isolated him from the older, more experienced alchemists. Sometimes he could strike up a casual conversation about alchemy and theories, but Edward, the child prodigy, was quickly discovered to be beyond their own capabilities, and in embarrassment and indignant silent seething the topic was soon dropped. Ed was ostracized by his fellows, even though he was now forced to wear the regulation military blues to be indistinguishable from the rest.

Edward found sitting by a fire outside with the lowest ranked soldiers much more preferable. They had no desire to talk about alchemy and were the freshest from the civilian world, leaving them less jaded or tainted by military life.

Distracted by the hypnotizing lick of flames of the campfire, Edward set the metal fork back to his plate with a flat _clack_ and forced down another bite of what was supposed to be chicken a ala king but tasted suspiciously like the tuna casserole from last night. It was hard to tell what sort of meal it was supposed to be when there was perhaps one or two bits of actual meat in the slop. Still lost in the flames, he wasn't aware of the danger until a heavy arm fell over his shoulders and Kimblee sat down hard on the wood bench beside him. The arm was so heavy that Ed almost lost his grip on the tin plate of rations in his hands. He snapped a sneer at the man and tried to shrug the arm off, but the man gripped his opposite arm more firmly.

"What do you think you're doing, Kimblee?" the boy snarled.

Ever beaming a friendly smile to the teenager, Kimblee leaned in close to mutter conspiratorially into Edward's ear.

"I just wanted to let you in on a little secret," he began, the warm breath moving over Ed's ear making the teen shiver. "Above anyone in the city, we always know where Rose is."

Kimblee paused for effect. The bastard _lived_ for effect.

"We also know right where to go to find a rat that has been helping the rebel cause and exterminate him into little metal bits." The Crimson Alchemist raised a hand to display the array tattooed upon his palm. "_And..._ his State Alchemist brother will be implicated in spying for the enemy, and meet a just execution. Though that particular duty would have to fall on Colonel Archer, your superior officer," he finished in a disappointed tone.

A tremble ran through Edward's body, every muscle clenching in barely restrained rage. Even the false muscle of automail reflexed to clutch the metal fingers harder on the tin plate of "chicken a la king" still in hand.

"Are you accusing me of defection, treason?" the blond uttered through clenched teeth. Hatred radiated from his narrowed golden eyes.

Kimblee broke into a grin. "Oh no, I'd never!" he answered brightly, but then the grin shifted to a sly smirk, his voice becoming absolutely serious. "Without evidence. It just doesn't look good that the brother of a State Alchemist is working alongside insurrectionists. Now if you communicated in any way, things would get very hairy, I'm afraid."

Edward said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid of saying something he would deeply regret immediately after. Al warned him to not be such a hothead. One misstep and either Kimblee or Archer would falsely claim Alphonse was inciting political dissent and spying for the enemy, both capital crimes in Amestris. Guilt by association was all the evidence needed to eliminate the both of them. Instead of venting his fury he stared icily at the mass murderer by his side and bit his tongue until it bled.

The Crimson Alchemist pushed up from his seat with a grunt, using Edward's shoulder as support. "Good to see you're on the right path, kid," he smirked. "Just follow your orders and you'll have a smooth, easy career." With a couple heavy pats to his back that rocked the teen forward, the "former" madman shoved his hands in his pockets, spun in place, and sauntered off, leaving Edward alone with his thoughts.

The tin plate now had five fingertip imprints on the right from the uncontrolled grip of his automail hand. If his human limb were strong enough, it too would have created a matching set on the left. Edward stared hard into the campfire. His closed lips worked with words he wished to say, thoughts he'd like to make reality. Finally having enough, he stood and threw the plate into the fire. He completely ignored the explosion of sparks and embers sent flying into the sand-

"Gah! Ow, what the _hell_?"

"_H- HOT!_ Dammit, what was th- Aww c'mon, my uniform! This was my best set!"

-and into a couple hapless enlisted men that happened to be downwind around a poker game. The alchemist ignored it all and stormed off.

Once outside the perimeter of camp, the blond teen shoved his fists into his pockets and slowed the hurried pace that was filling his boots with sand. He came to a stop at the top of a small dune and lifted his face to the sky, blowing a sigh out through his nostrils. It was cold enough to make his automail ports ache, but there would be no snow or rainfall from the scattered clouds above. The air out here was so much clearer than in the Central or Eastern Cities, but even as a wanderer who had traveled all over the country he could appreciate the starlight that fell on the clouds from above to give them a silver glow. He didn't dare to think they had a silver lining. No. It was a glow. Only a glow and nothing more.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he would be ordered to attack and even kill innocent civilians. They might even be familiar faces he had met before, faces that had smiled in greeting to he and his brother both. Kill them, or he and his brother would die. Kill them, like Mustang had done in Ishval. Edward gritted his teeth and glared hatefully up to the sky. It was too late to surrender his watch now that he had been called to active duty in this civil war. How had the bas- Mustang, how had General Mustang dealt with this? And Hawkeye...

The fury melted away from his face and Edward lowered his head into an upheld gloved hand, rubbing his temples lightly. Mustang and Hawkeye... One dead and the other on the run for assisting an insurgent group's failed attempt at the Fuhrer's life. He knew that was a lie. If she didn't find a good place to hide for the rest of her life, she would be executed for her crimes against the state.

The corruption wasn't specific to this temporary military installation alone.

What was the last thing he had said to either of them? Some snide remark to the Colonel- now General in that posthumous promotion- about his womanizing reputation. And Hawkeye had been in the room when he said it. He groaned and covered his face with both hands as if trying to hide from his own actions. Hawkeye herself had only been given a casual wave and "See you later, Lieutenant!"

That, and nothing more.

Ed sank to sit heavily on the sand, elbows propped on his knees. He stared out over the cold sand to the dim desert city of Lior.

No apologies for giving them both another mess to clean up, both with paperwork and bills for damages. No thanks for protecting his actions from the higher-ups. Or for sending him on assignments that were really excuses to search for the Philosopher's Stone.

If only he could ask Mustang or Hawkeye what to do now. Or how they handled this burden. If only...

Nina, Maes, Roy, Riza...

He rolled onto his back and slammed his right arm hard into the sand beside him, his left wrist laid across his eyes. Why did he not realize how important people were until they were taken from him? How completely self-centered he had been all this time. Now he would most likely lose his brother unless he could figure a way out of this mess.

This was all his fault. Alphonse suffered enough as a result of Edward's stupid actions, there was no reason that had to continue any longer.

His dry lips parted to whisper to the night sky.

"I'm sorry... everyone."

**AN: *Mew!* =^.^= *holds out gun to a ball of purring fluff* Leave a review or the kitten gets it! **

**Seriously though, reviews feed my Muse and make chapters come faster. Really, it does. Special thanks to all my dedicated reviewers that leave such wonderful comments! You make this fic happen.**

**There are expected delays for the next chapter. It is convention season _and_ I will be having a friend from out of state over for a couple weeks. So those reviews will be needed even more to get my writing muse back after so much distraction.**

**Yes, I know there is no Christmas in the FMA world, but there is no Arakawa, either. *evil grin***

**Theme song for this chapter is Life is a Song by Patrick Park. MUST MUST MUST listen to this one. The power of RoyAi compels you!**


	12. Revolution: Part 1

**AN:** Sorry this is late. Please lower the Molotov cocktails. Here is your update.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned FMA, most FMA doujin would not exist. So _that's_ what's behind Armor!Al's loincloth. Wait, what are you doing? RUN, ROY!

Cannot... _unsee_...

**Revolution: Part 1**

The cold wind whipped through the empty boxcar the moment the large door rumbled open along its track, the dim light of evening twilight illuminating the disturbed accumulated eddies of dust and grass scattered throughout the wooden floor of the interior. Black hair temporarily obscured her vision as she leaned out of the car to judge the trains position and speed. The tracks a mile or so ahead followed a very gentle curve northward, and by her estimates there was a ten minute window before the train would begin moving further away from Lior rather than closer- and speeding up.

Hawkeye turned back in with a hand remaining on the door and again considered her options while staring at her military surplus pack. Truth was, there were none. The train wasn't going to slow down too much more than this, and it was already holding steady at around thirty miles per hour. There was no way to land on her feet this time, and landing on her side at a roll- no matter which side- would hurt her healing arm. She had to drop the bag out first, then jump. She had already tightly bandaged the arm to prevent as much injury as possible. Better get it over with before she lost her nerve.

There were no train stations in Lior. From experience she knew that the military would have stopped the eastbound to Yous Well and disembarked off the tracks at the point closest to Lior. Setting up ramps and rolling the tanks and armored cars off the train cars was less of a hassle than shutting down an entire train station in some Podunk town to disembark.

The brakes hissed and squealed as the train began to drop its speed for the curve.

Hawkeye hooked her hand through a shoulder strap of the pack and leaned out of the doorway just enough to note that the front of the train was no longer visible: the train had entered the turn. She dumped the bag out the door into a clump of sage grass and swung herself onto the ladder beside the door. Once down the ladder steps, she stopped on the last rung with a foot hovering over the ballast rushing by below. No turning back now. Hawkeye took a deep breath, screwed her eyes shut, and pushed hard away from the ladder to fall into the darkening desert.

* * *

The military presence was everywhere in Amestris- except here. The interior of Lior appeared eerily void of any military activity whatsoever. The atmosphere directly opposed from the surrounding desert which teemed with armored cars, tents, patrolling soldiers and the silent yet threatening artillery lines that trained sights on the humble homes of hearth and cradle.

They were silent, for now.

As Hawkeye made her approach from the north, she easily avoided the military base stationed directly south. The mountain range had slowed her trek a full day, but the higher vantage point did allow her to see how the military had encamped itself around the city and allow her to plan accordingly.

She entered the city at night, but the shadows ended at the city border. To her wide-eyed amazement, the warring city was afire with festivities. The symbols of the sun god Leto were everywhere: on banners hanging from the roofs of homes and shops,and on the walls surrounding the temple. Torches, braziers, and numerous campfires lit up the city streets as bright as daylight.

Before she entered the town, Hawkeye stashed her pack amid the rubble of a bombed building and donned a traditional desert gown and hooded cloak in light brown and white over her traveling clothes.

A few groups of friends and family gathered in the main square around several campfires that licked up and sparked swirling columns of embers up into the night sky. The sound of violins, drums, tambourines, castanets, and guitars enlivened . But for a quick sidestep, the disguised woman would have found herself knocked over by a rowdy group of children running among the groups of adults ringing cowbells or banging blocks of wood together.

"What on earth...?" Hawkeye murmured under her breath.

Just ahead, she saw a woman approach the decorative fountain near the main square and dip a cup into the wide basin. She stopped herself mid sip to grab a handful of robe to yank a mischievous child from dipping his own cup into the fountain and shoo him away. The young boy ran away back to his friends, which as a group ran off laughing through the crowd.

Music grew in volume. A procession marched closer to the town square, led by a group of eager children clapping blocks of wood or banging cymbals.

These days a stranger, especially a fair-skinned stranger, would be less than welcome in Lior. Mindful of that fact, Hawkeye found a discrete place between two closed merchants stalls to watch from.

A team of two donkeys pulled a rig hauling a statue of Leto behind them. The statue was so large that no cart could hold it; a pole drag-like apparatus lashed to the stone cargo dragged along the ground, the statue's sandaled feet gouging two furrows through the street. Despite the excitement of the children leading the procession and the music that could only be described as triumphant accompanied by its arrival, half the gathering crowd seemed very unhappy about the parade. A few men spat in the sand, many murmured into the ears of others with outraged expressions, some women even covered their faces with light scarves and wept. The other half couldn't be happier and cheered and clapped as it passed by. Despite the opposing feelings and obvious tension, no one moved to stop them.

Two men dragging a short knotted stack of thorny acacia branches each walked behind the donkeys, erasing the gouges and leaving smooth, raked road behind them. Women dress in white gowns with long, trailing white scarves tossed more desert evergreens onto the path, like flower girls at a wedding. Behind that group came the main event. The reaction of the crowd appeared universally approving. Even the grumblers had perked up and leaned from side to side to see around the ones in front. More women in white walked along either side of a high, white canopy held by what Hawkeye imagined were priestesses. The ones holding the canopy poles and the single woman walking beneath it holding a very young infant in her arms wore white hooded robes. The city square cheered as the woman walked into the main plaza; Hawkeye heard the phrase "-the Blessed Holy Mother!" repeated often. Behind the canopy, men and women in the normal dress robes of this region carried heavy pots on their shoulders or even heads, bending and tipping the pots to pour red wine into cups and goblets the crowd held out. Much of the drink spilled onto the road or even the servers and served, but no one seemed to mind, even laughing about it. Hawkeye couldn't see what transpired in the square; it was too dangerous to be in such a public place.

"Amazing," she breathed. The symbolism of this winter solstice rite was more than an ancient tradition this year. The death of the sun and the old god bringing in the new worked to smooth over the hostilities between the two side of the civil war. The rites had been in place long before Letoism arrived in Lior, but now they took on a new as well as the ancient meaning. Leto's time was over, the sun had died. The new religion seemed to center around this Holy Mother and her baby. Some may hold on to Letoism, but at this moment it was not something anyone felt the need to fight over.

A familiar metallic sound brought Hawkeye back to the present and her mission. Her eyes snapped up, looking over the heads of those passing by to enter the square. The familiar helmet of Alphonse Elric rose head and shoulders above everyone else, standing out and almost shining with the flickering of firelight all around. He followed the Holy Mother, watching her.

Hawkeye waited until he had disappeared into the masses before turning away. She would find a way to follow the boy to speak with him alone.

* * *

Many took to the rooftops to watch the events in the square, but Hawkeye needed to avoid encounters with the locals as much as possible. Instead, she stayed one street back from the main show as the procession moved back through the streets. When the crowd thinned out and the celebratory whoops and hollers grew fewer, Hawkeye dared to slink between the buildings and get closer to the Holy Mother's entourage. Following them no more than two houses behind, she watched Al's back weave through the city streets and bring up the rear of the priestesses into a nondescript building. Before he ducked his head to enter through the low doorway, Hawkeye picked up the pace to a run. "Alphonse!

The armor froze, then in a single move ducked back out and spun to face her direction.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

The woman slowed to a walk and pulled down her headdress, smiling.

The familiar sound of clanging metal at a run, heard so many times in the halls of Eastern and Central Headquarters, and the excitement in Alphone's voice brought both relief and a wave of nostalgia. Hawkeye stopped and smiled up to the boy's glowing red eyes.

"Alphonse. It's so good to see you," Hawkeye said with genuine feeling.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye! What happened to your hair?1 What are you doing here? I mean, not that I'm not glad to see you, but I saw the posters-"

"Shh," Hawkeye interrupted, patting her uninjured hand down in the air to signal him to keep it down. She cast furtive glances all around them. "Let's talk somewhere safe."

The young teen nodded, held out a chivalrous arm for her to grasp, and led her back into the doorway he had ducked out from.

* * *

The teapot looked as if it were from a child's playset in Alphonse's giant gauntlets, but with exquisite care and practiced delicacy, he poured the steaming liquid into two tiny teacups and set the pot aside on a hotpad with a telltale relieved sigh.

"You handle that very well," Hawkeye commented.

The boy rubbed the back of his helmet and chuckled, a bit sheepish as he sat down on a chair much too small for him. "You get used to it after a while. I broke so many of Granny's plates and cups, it's a good thing I'm an alchemist!"

"I can definitely see the benefits," she said after a sip, holding the teacup to warm her hands. "Was the trouble due to the size of your new body?"

"That was hard, but I couldn't feel anything," he said, lifting a thick gauntlet and flexing it into a fist in front of his face. "It took forever to figure out how to hold something delicately and how to throw a hard punch."

"Can you not even tell when you're holding something?"

His voice grew quieter. "Ehhh... I can feel resistance, but that's it."

Setting her cup down in her saucer with a soft _clack_, Hawkeye reached for his gauntlet with both hands and turned it palm out, then pressed her palm to his. "When we meet again, let's greet each other like this. This way we can both feel each other, and I can make a connection directly to you, your soul, despite your current body. You can do this with all your friends."

The boy stared at their hands pressed together, then at the Lieutenant. Once he found his voice, he said, "I never realized that's what Brother and I were doing. We bump fists sometimes, it's our way of hugging I guess." Almost reluctant, the boy lowered his hand back to the table. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll do that."

Hawkeye rested her folded arms on the table and leaned closer. "Just Riza, Al. No need to be formal, especially now that I'm no longer in the military."

The armor scraped as it leaned in closer as well, his voice lowering. "What happened, Lieu- er, Riza? Why are you on wanted posters everywhere?"

"Long story, but the short version is that the military is under the control of evil homunculi and I happened to discover that the Fuhrer is really a homunculus named Pride. I barely escaped with my life due to the quick action of another homunculus that is on our side."

"On _our_ side? A homunculus?" he repeated, incredulous.

The former blonde nodded. "There are two on our side: Greed and Lust."

"Lust? But the Colonel killed Lust, we both saw it!"

"I know, but someone made a new one. Actually, he was made specifically to aid us in overthrowing this regime."

The helmet creaked, but the boy said nothing. Hawkeye schooled her reaction enough to hide her relief. Al was a sharp kid, he might have already guessed to the identity of Lust, but he was also wise enough to know when to let a question drop.

She took a sip of her tea to gather her thoughts. The next bit would be difficult. The cup set down in the saucer with a short _clink_ and she encircled them with her arms, fingers intertwined. "How much do you know about how a homunculus is created?"

Again, more quiet. The armor creaked as the boy sat up straighter, staring at her with his unblinking gaze. They both knew how it was done. "Why are you asking this, Lieu- Riza?"

Hawkeye sighed through her nose. "What you and Edward created would not take human form without red stones, inferior Philosopher's Stones," she began in a soft tone. "You boys didn't have any, but someone else did. Someone who found your creation and fed her those stones... and then placed her in the military."

More quiet. Then, "The Fuhrer's aide."

She nodded. "So you've seen her. It's true. Her name is Sloth, and she is not like your mother. Not at all."

The helmet lowered, his gaze on the table. "We saw her, but... we thought it couldn't be possible."

"What you saw was not your mother, I know you know that."

The helmet shook side to side in the negative. "No. She would never leave us. Never."

"Homunculi have one weakness, and that's to the remains of the person they were created after. When they get near it, they freeze and become immobilized." Now for the hardest part. Wish a discrete swallow, she decided to plow on ahead. Alphonse was a strong boy. "We're planning to fight the homunculi very soon. Because they are stronger, faster, and skilled beyond human capabilities, we need to find their weaknesses. My job is to find the human remains of the homunculi to aid in our battle against them." Her fingers clenched tighter. "I need to bring a piece of your mother's remains back to Central. Without it, we may not succeed in overthrowing them."

Al shook his head again, sitting up straighter. "No. No, Riza. We can't let you do that." Hawkeye had time to blink in surprise before he continued. "We'll do it. This is our mess, we can't ask you to clean it up for us."

Hawkeye's mouth opened to verbalize an argument against this, but in the end it closed and she nodded. "You're both very capable alchemists. You know what you're about to face. But you can't leave just yet. I need your help here. Scar is making a transmutation circle in this town that will turn everyone into a true Philosopher's Stone. You have to stop him and erase the array as much as possible, slow him down. I'll take care of... the other part."

The boy first nodded, then squirmed in his seat, turning the teapot on the hotpad with both hands. "They said he was planning something with the people of Lior to protect them from the army. This is not what I expected..."

Hawkeye leaned closer, eyes locked into the dim light from within the helmet. "Al, our friends are stationed here. Whatever they're doing here will kill them. No, it's actually a fate worse than death. Please, I hate asking you to put yourself in danger, but please do whatever you can to prevent this from happening. I have faith in you boys. When the stakes are high and the lives of so many are on the line, I know that you two will do all you can. You always have in the past."

The helmet creaked a slow nod. Hawkeye did not relax much; there was little reason to feel relieved yet.

"Greed mentioned that you and Edward would know more about a young homunculus named Wrath. I don't know how old he is, but Lust called him a brat, so that would mean he's too old to be a scamp and too young to be an asshole. Do you know anything about him, or where his remains could be?"

"Ahh," Al sighed, leaning back into his chair. "Actually... he doesn't have any. He was made using his own human remains. His right arm and left leg belong to Brother, but I suppose his original limbs are lost on the other side of the Gate."

Hawkeye's brow creased. "Do you mean you know who created him?"

He nodded, laying his hands on his lap. "His mother was our teacher. She lost her baby in a stillbirth and used his body for the transmutation."

The boy had a mother. She leaned back in her chair and ran a hand through her dyed hair. "Not all homunculi are bad, Lust and Greed prove this. They can be rehabilitated." To some degree. For a while she dropped her gaze to the table and mulled over everything in silence. "It's not right for me to play god. Can you tell me how to contact your teacher and give her the choice of how to... well, deal with this? I don't have the right to decide his fate, but I can give her information that can help her decide."

"Sure," Al nodded. "Master Izumi is far from here, though. She lives in Dublith."

Hawkeye started, mouth almost gaping. "Dublith? I was just there!" She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Did she have to jump off a train again or could she arrange safe transport via chimera from the train to her next destination? Before she did that, she would have to ride back to Central City, then from the Eastern Line go to Resembool, then take the train back to Central for the Southern Line- even thinking about it made her feel more tired.

"Heh, sorry about that." He shrugged and rubbed the back of his helmet again.

Hawkeye offered a wan smile. "It can't be helped. I'll go to her after I collect-" She paused, but there was no way of making the topic easier. "-what you'll need from your mother's grave. I promise to be respectful. If it helps any, I already planned to leave a bouquet of flowers at her headstone."

The boy sat up straighter in his seat. "Tell her we'll make her proud, okay? We promise we'll make things right."

This time her smile was warm and genuine. "I'll tell her."

* * *

_Vox Populi._

_Voice of the people._

The fliers didn't start anything.

Political dissent and the puppet parliament election debates have existed as long as Amestris itself. Nothing that began and thrived on war alone could ever be peaceful and content for long. The population wanted peace and security, but without the cost of their freedoms.

The taxes were absurdly high to pay for the war effort, higher than any country around them. While the common people worked hard to scrape by, the Generals, high ranking officers, and the puppet government lived in luxury. With hostilities at almost every border, communication with other countries or even knowledge of what existed beyond those borders was limited. They were tired of the terrorist attacks, tired of losing their sons and daughters in endless conflicts, tired of peace and order enforced at the business end of rifles. Corruption was rampant, as until recent times experienced by the town of Yous Well.

The fliers reminded the population that the military no longer existed to protect and serve the people, but instead became the other way around. When a people find the heights of success can only be achieved by joining the military, that is an example of oppression. Only Central Command had a say in the government, not the millions that paid the high wartime taxes.

No, the fliers didn't start anything, but they became excellent tinder to fuel the flickering beginnings of an organized revolution.

The East became the safe haven for open politics overnight. General Grumman, acting on his own, proclaimed that town hall meetings did not pose a threat to civil order and allowed citizens to meet at the times and places the propaganda fliers listed. The dormant parliament awoke, and officials with long records in office found themselves ousted by impromptu public election. Central forces were prepared to march into the East and stop the "disorder", but the North arose with their own new public officials as well, followed not long after by the West. Central Command could not spread themselves so thin to stop the meetings, but it did issue an order to destroy all propaganda on sight and arrest anyone in possession of banned literature. The people of Armestris may have begun to instate a new Parliament, but the generals seated within Central Command didn't feel too concerned. Without the power of an organized military, the Parliament remained all bark and no bite. To ensure the loyalty of the military force, the Fuhrer raised their yearly salary and gave every service member a generous Christmas bonus to share with their families. In addition, any newly enlisted automatically received the equivalent of three month's pay- up front. There was little chance of anyone throwing that away for some democratic ideal.

The Fuhrer held exclusive power over the nation, and it would remain that way.

* * *

"Hey, big boy, I brought you an early Christmas present~!" Envy sang.

Would Dante fault him for getting in another scrap with the oldest and most obnoxious homonculus? Or would it be more suspicious if he never rose to the constant baiting? Lust closed the book in his hands with a regretful sigh and leaned to the side to see behind the leather armchair. There stood the green-haired twat as casual and arrogant as ever with a hand resting on his hip, but this time he was accompanied by two risque women in matching red and white festive clothing. A brow arched up Lust's forehead. The redhead with garish red lipstick blew a kiss; the brunette tittered at her friend's boldness and fluffed the white fur trim of her red and white winter coat that ended mere inches below her crotch. There didn't appear to be anything else on her body but matching red high heeled boots. "For me?" Lust jumped out of the chair and drew nearer, sliding his thumbs in his pants pockets. His sharp gaze moved from the women to flash a suspicious look to Envy. "And here I didn't get you anything."

"We don't expect a whole hell of a lot from you anyway. Well? Like what you see, Lust?" Envy asked, feigning innocence.

Lust stopped between the "presents", giving each woman one of his best seductive, suggestive smiles. The women were experts in this field of work and knew to put on the best show for men grasping at fading dreams this holiday season. They were hired as a present to another man, so they knew they had a job to lift his spirits. The ginger leaned in and caressed the soft leather of his sleeve down to his strong hands. Her lips pouted in appreciation. "Just who is a present for who?" she cooed up to him. True enough, this well-cut man was far above any hired female entertainment's expectations of the usual holiday fare of a scrawny or hefty fellow.

"How long do you have them on loan for?" he asked in a low, almost husky voice, eyes locked with hers.

"The Madame would only let them go for three nights for a new customer." Irritation replaced the smug expression. "Don't expect this too often, brat. I do _not_ want to get the wrong sort of attention for being a repeat customer, even if I already am for your lazy ass."

"I can tell you paid top dollar." Lust smiled easily to Envy and reach both hands around the women to guide them to his bedroom. "And I _definitely_ accept your peace offering."

But Envy wasn't done. Folding his arms, he added in a softer voice that made one strain to hear every word, "Would Riza mind your infidelity? Did you ever get a chance to tell her?"

By now his reactions were practiced and smooth. Without turning around, he led the ladies up the grand stair and lifted a hand to wave a dismissive farewell to his "brother". "She has to move on someday too, doesn't she?" he returned. Turning to the ginger that captured his attention, he purred with a smile close to her ear. "On to such _better _things."

* * *

That day began and ended like any other.

The bright July sun shone through cloudless skies to bake sidewalks and asphalt hot enough to create wavering mirages at their horizons. Morning marching drills on the parade grounds ended a half hour earlier than usual to prevent anyone from keeling over with heat exhaustion.

The coffee pot poured the same brand and recipe as every other day. A cup of dark brew rested on each desk, every mug the same bland white color as the next.

The office did not come equipped with curtains. "These glass panes are as good as magnifying glasses!" the Colonel announced, slapping his book closed with a single hand. "I'll be damned if I fry like a bug under them." Mustang moved his chair to share Lieutenant Havoc's desk out of the direct sunlight to read.

The heat slowed them all down, the entirety of Central Headquarters, so no work backed up in their office. Around 2 'o clock Mustang's team took to breathing only when one of the two circulating fans graced them with moving air. By 3 'o clock, half the office dozed in a semi-upright position, jackets hanging open. Hawkeye felt fairly sure she had discovered she could sleep with her eyes open while staring at request forms. The regular hum of the fans, the clicking sound they made when about to turn, the buzz and _plink, plink_ of a fat fly bumping against a windowpane, and the lack of activity drew them all into an irresistible hypnotic lullaby.

Hawkeye remembered all this, the day of Colonel Mustang's murder, down to the warm, still air where the fans didn't reach.

In all other aspects the workday was unremarkable. Everyone came, went on with business as usual for a slow day, and parted ways with full expectation that the next day would be just as typical.

Hawkeye reminded Mustang of his last appointment for the day. They exchanged polite farewells and she turned away from him for the last time.

They did not say "I love you."

They didn't share so much as a brief embrace.

They counted on tomorrows.

She remembered and replayed it in her mind almost every single night. At first she did it to look for clues about his murderer, but now that she knew the truth, she did it to remember his last day alive.

Laid out on her bedroll under the stars, Riza Hawkeye drew her hand over her face, reminded herself to breathe, and pulled the blanket up to her chin. The smokeless fire at her side didn't do much to ward off the winter night air of the mountains north of Lior.

Some say to live each day as if it were your last. Nice in theory, but it made for miserable living. As soldiers they accepted the inevitability of death. If they lived every day as if they would not see another sunrise, each day would be spent in high anxiety, mentally crossing off lists until each day became a grim ritual. No, they all lived free without a thought to future regrets since a soldier's life does not lend itself to dwelling on the past. Remember, yes, but not dwell. They didn't live each day as if it would be their last. They simply lived.

Even if they had somehow known one of them would be dead by morning and shared more lingering and meaningful goodbyes, it wouldn't ease the sting of loss any less.

Regardless, not having done so carried its own brand of ache.

Surrounded by nothing but the vast expanse of desert and covered by the eternal sky above, Riza Hawkeye never felt so alone. Not a single human being for many miles in any direction; no life but the sparse and resilient insects, scrub, and occasional reptile. She had a long way to go to reach her destination, and a long journey after that. The thought of it made her tired, but she held no reservations about the tasks ahead. _If that is your wish, I'll follow you even into hell._

Hawkeye turned to the small cooking fire and readjusted the wool blanket around her. The upcoming Christmas will be the first she'll be spending alone, and without Roy, since her Academy days. No matter how small, such as a simple dinner out together, she and Roy always managed to celebrate Christmas in their own way. That tradition started when he was still her father's apprentice and learned that Christmas hadn't been celebrated in the Hawkeye home for many, many years. On Christmas day that first year he lived with them, she opened her bedroom door to find a small pine branch broken from a tree, decorated with bright green ribbon edged with red and small clear glass balls, even a glittering gold star on top. Everything had been arranged with painstaking care, down to the rudimentary tree stand made with alchemy. The gift earned him a rare smile and a quietly murmured "Thank you", and she took extra pains in making his meals that day. The tree remained standing on her nightstand until most of the needles had fallen off and the invigorating scent of pine faded away into memory. She wore that ribbon years later for a Christmas party with the Hughes family. Roy had stared at her a long time when he saw it, with a smile on his face that suggested seeing her with it was the greatest gift he had ever been given.

This will be Lust's first Christmas as well, she knew, and he's stuck spending it with his "family". She thought of Lust smiling to her in his self-assured way, yearning for the day she could see it again. If they survived this little rebellion, she'd have to give him a proper Christmas next year. She'd even get him a "Baby's First Christmas" ornament. Imagining his face as she hung it on the tree made her snort back laughter and pull her head into the blanket to stifle the sound that seemed to offend the silence of the night. Yes, definitely an item on the "to-do" list.

Damn, how she missed those men. She closed her eyes and pretended she wasn't freezing alone in the desert, wrapped in a single scratchy military-issue wool blanket, but in a quiet home in the embrace of warm, strong, familiar arms. She fell asleep half believing it.

* * *

Far to the north of the blonde lieutenant, a spiky haired man reached his own destination after a difficult journey. He took in the small cottage, '_Little more than a shack',_ he thought, and the boulders that surrounded the yard stood out from its untamed mountainous surroundings, containing not grass but tiered flowers and stepping stones surrounded by moss. '_As if an old lady lived here, not a rotting old man_,' he inwardly grumbled.

Greed ascended the wide stone stair and paused long enough to sigh in self-pity before lifting his hand to knock on the door. Brief, hard raps.

When enough time passed that it seemed no one was at home and he felt inclined to invite himself in, the door opened without any hurry. The blonde man's weary eyes and slumped shoulders met Greed with all the enthusiasm expected of a recluse hidden away in the mountains. He opened his mouth to speak, but Greed lifted his hand and cut in before Hohenheim could start.

"No, I'm not here for the usual beg and banter, old friend," Greed said, a sly twist of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He lowered his hand and leaned closer. "The old hag is about to go down. Care to join the revolution?"

**AN:** This chapter is hasn't been beta'd yet, but I wanted to get it out there ASAP. My most sincere apologies for going from posting a chapter a week to nothing for a few months; I'm dealing with progressively worsening health problems thanks to a small brain tumor in a very bad place. I decided to finally admit it since my faithful readers deserve an explanation for my long absence.

Now, I want to add that it's also difficult to write about a sweltering hot summer day without air conditioning while freezing your niblets off in the dead of winter (yes, I've been working on this chapter a long time).

Hope you enjoyed the bit of culture in Lior. I spent hours upon hours researching the world's Winter Solstice celebrations, especially in the Middle East and ancient Greece, which is the basis for Arakawa's Lior culture. I felt satisfied with the results because I love symbolism.

I had to cut some parts a bit short since it was causing writer's block.

Side note, I'm toying with the idea of writing an original fiction for publication about a werewolf (vampires are way overdone). What do you think?


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